A St. Canard Christmas Carol
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“...Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open SLEIGH!!!” sang four of the fearsome five loudly and somewhat offkey. Negaduck, the silent partner, cringed from across the room.
The snow fell gently outside their hideout in the city of St. Canard and as they finished their song they laughed good-naturedly and continued decorating their Christmas “tree.”
“Gee,” said Megavolt. “I love Christmas.” He scooped up a handful of popcorn and tossed it into his mouth. “The food...” he sighed.
“The toys!” Quackerjack added eagerly.
“The trees...” Bushroot sighed.
“The money being shoved into cash registers everywhere!” Liquidator chuckled.
“The CONSTANT NOISE OF IDIOTS LIKE YOU!!” shouted Negaduck startling them all.
They turned and looked at him. He glared at them sharply. “I am trying to count the loot from last week!” he yelled. “Do you have to sit there and talk like a bunch of goody-goodies about--” he sneered, “--Christmas this and Christmas that?” He waved his hands about in frustration. “You all make me sick! It’s just another stupid day!”
“Aw, come on, boss!” Megavolt said. “Christmas isn’t just another day! It’s a day when everyone can get together with their loved ones and have a good time!” He stroked a string of Christmas lights lovingly.
“Decorating the tree...” Bushroot said fondly. Then he frowned as he looked down. “Even tho’ all we have is a cactus...”
“I told you, no tree!” Negaduck growled.
“But it’s a Christmas tradition!” Bushroot said. “Everyone has a tree!”
“Yeah!” added Quackerjack eagerly. “And everyone buys lots and lots of toys!”
He held up one of his own creations, an talking Teleducky doll that said, “Die! Die! Uh-oh!” and then pulled out a small (but sharp) knife.
Negaduck rolled his eyes.
“Yes,” Liquidator sighed. “ ‘Tis the season of giving. And getting! And buying far more than one’s budget can possibly allow!”
“Hey, speaking of buying,” Megavolt said then. “When do we get our share of the loot, boss?”
Negaduck sneered at him. “Your share? You think you morons actually deserve a some of this?”
“We helped steal it!” Bushroot exclaimed.
“Ha!” Negaduck laughed. “You knobs? All you helped do is slow me down. I’m lucky you didn’t get us caught again when Darkwing Dip showed up!”
“That wasn’t our fault!” Quackerjack whined.
“Yeah!” Megavolt said. “How were we supposed to know he’d use a mysterious and dramatic entrance in a puff of smoke? You’d think he’d use the door, but nooo! He had to be orig-i-nal! How could we expect that?!”
“Because, you goons!” Negaduck yelled. “He always does that!”
Megavolt blinked. “Hm,” he said. “Well, that explains that creepy de ja vu feeling...”
“Bah!” Negaduck exclaimed. “You guys are imbiciles. Why I keep you around is beyond me.” He walked over to them and handed them each a twenty dollar bill. “There,” he said. “Hope you’re happy.”
“Twenty dollars??” Liquidator yelled. “Extortion!”
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Negaduck smirked.
“B-b-but, but Negaduck, we stole over 10 grand!” Bushroot exclaimed.
“How would you know?” Negaduck shot back. “I’m the one that counted the loot!” He gathered up the rest of the money and started towards his room.
“But--” Quackerjack began.
“But what?” Negaduck yelled, turning to face them. “Twenty bucks is twenty times more than any of ya are worth!” He pulled out a flame thrower and started it, adding, “So take it, shaddup, and have a merry stinkin’ Christmas before I barbecue the lot of ya!”
With that he stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him.
The rest of the Fearsome Five looked blankly at each other for a moment until Quackerjack spoke.
“Hmph,” he said, kicking an ornament across the floor. “Some Christmas.”
“Oh well,” Bushroot sighed, picking up the ornament and hanging it on the cactus. “There’s always next year.”
*****
Negaduck yawned and looked up from his desk at the clock. It was nearly 11pm. He had been counting money for three hours straight and hadn’t even realized it.
He smiled. Now that was a lot of money.
He yawned again and stood up to stretch, then went to the closet and pulled out his skull and crossbone pajamas. He started to put them on then changed his mind. Tossing them on the bed he opened his bedroom door and yelled, “Hey! You knobs still out there?”
There were no lights on and no answer could be heard, so Negaduck said to himself in disgust, “Hmph. The losers prob’ly went Christmas shopping.” He started to shut the door, adding, “They’d better get me somethin’ good!” and had almost closed the door when he heard a noise from the darkened outer room.
Negaduck turned around and opened the door and heard more clearly an eerie voice say, “Negaduck!”
Negaduck stood in his doorway and peered into the darkness. “Who’s there?” he asked. “Whaddya want?” But there was no answer.
Suddenly he felt a chill run down his spine as a cold breeze blew past him. He looked around again and then shut the door. Turning around he muttered, “Stupid morons prob’ly forgot to close the window...” and changed into his pajamas.
After he was changed he climbed into his bed and sighed contentedly, grinning at the thought of all that money on his desk.
“Negaduck!”
“Huh?” he started, sitting up in his bed. “What the--?”
Suddenly near the door a small light began to glow, and as Negaduck watched in awe the light grew and glowed brighter and brighter until he was forced to look away.
“What’s goin’ on here?” he cried, hiding his face with his hands.
“Hi-ya Negs,” said a familiar voice.
Negaduck looked up. The light was gone and he found himself staring at none other than FOWL’s top agent.
“Steelbeak?” he exclaimed. “What the heck are you doing in my bedroom?”
Steelbeak strolled casually over to the desk and leaned on it. “Babe,” he said, “I been askin’ myself the same question.” He was wearing his trademark white dinner jacket, but draped all across him were heavy-looking grey chains that clanked and jingled when he walked.
Negaduck looked confused and Steelbeak continued. “See, ever since I died I been doin’ hard time down unda, and den da Big Guy comes along and offers me dis gig, right? So I say--”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Negaduck yelled. “Whaddya mean since you ‘died?’ You’re not dead!”
“Oh, yeah, I am,” Steelbeak said assuringly. “I got bumped off last weekend! Didn’t ya hear about it? It was in all the papas. Big, big news.”
Negaduck narrowed his eyes. Steelbeak exclaimed, “I am!” He picked up a chain around his chest and asked, “Whaddya think dese are, a fashion statement?!”
“Sure hope not,” Negaduck muttered, sitting back against his headboard.
Steelbeak frowned and said in an ominous voice, “Dese are the Eternal Chains of Sorrow, ooooh spooky! I wear dem as punishment for all my crimes on earth.”
“Right,” said Negaduck.
Frusterated, Steelbeak stormed over to the bedside and said, “Listen, pal, I ain’t got time for dis.” He poked Negaduck on the beak. “You have a hatred for Christmas and all tings good dat is powerful! It is damning your soul, friend! I know, it happend ta me! I am here to warn you to change your evil ways, Negaduck. If you don’t, den you shall suffa da same fate as me!” He jangled the chains in his hands threateningly.
“Bad taste in accessories?” Negaduck quipped.
Steelbeak yelled, “Why you sonuva--!” and his face and body began to glow red and his eyes glowed with a hateful fire. He snatched up the lamp by the bedside and threw it to the floor. Except for his glowing the room was totally dark. Steelbeak glared at Negaduck, who gasped and backed against his bed, startled.
Satisfied that he had frightened him, the ghost Steelbeak smirked and backed away, returning to his normal colors. He brushed the sleeves of his jacket cockily and started for the door. “Change your ways, Negs,” he said. “Dese chains are a far heavier burden than they appear to be.”
With that he evaporated before Negaduck’s eyes and was gone.
Negaduck blinked uncertainly as darkness entered the room, then gasped again as Steelbeak poked his head back through the door.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Almost forgot. Ahem. Tonight youse will be visited by three spirits, Negaduck. They will come on de hour for da next three!” He grinned. “And dey’re real punctual.” He looked around the room. “So youse had betta tidy up!” He began to laugh wickedly and then disappeared again.
His laughter echoed in Negaduck’s ears as silence fell upon the empty room.
Confused, but not afraid, Negaduck got out of bed and picked up the lamp. He plugged it back in and squinted as it’s light filled the room.
Silently he climbed back into bed, wondering what he could’ve eaten to make him have such a bizarre dream, and soon he had drifted off to sleep.
Negaduck stirred in his sleep as the clock on the wall ticked away. Suddenly it struck midnight. Negaduck grumbled and pulled his pillow over his head. The clock was on it’s fifth chime when Negaduck suddenly realized something. He sat up and said, “Wait a minute. I don’t have a clock that chimes!”
He didn’t have alot of time to think about it though, for just as the clock struck twelve, a loud voice yelled, “INCOMING!”
“Incoming?” Negaduck repeated. “Who said tha--”
Just then a hockey puck hit him with full force in the face and he groaned and fell over backwards and off the bed.
“Keen gear!” a high-pitched voice exclaimed merrily. “She scores!”
Negaduck groaned and pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning his arms on the bed. What he saw made his jaw drop.
“Hello!” said a cheerful (and strangely familiar) red-haired young duckling. She retrieved her hockey puck from Negaduck’s now open mouth and tossed it in the air, catching it again as she introduced herself. “I am the ghost of Christmas past,” she said, matter-of-factly. “But you can call me...” she caught the puck and held it for a moment, thinking, then laughed, “The Ghost of Christmas Past!”
“Kid,” Negaduck growled as he pulled himself up. He pulled out a rifle and aimed it at her head. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m gonna--”
“Ah ah ah!” she scolded him, and with a wave of her hand the rifle in his hands vanished.
“Hey!” he exclaimed.
“Cool trick, huh?” she asked eagerly. “I’m gettin’ pretty good at it!” She nodded her head deliberately and the hockey puck and stick she had been holding disappeared as well.
“Hey, how--how’d you do that?” he stammered.
She ignored him and asked, “Is that what you wanna wear?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“We’re on a schedule here, Negs,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “And we’ve gotta get moving! Lots to see tonight!”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Okay, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “I don’t care if you’re in your cute little jammies or not. No one but me’ll see you anyway.”
Negaduck looked down at his black nightshirt, then looked angrily up at her.
“Well, let’s go!” she exclaimed merrily.
“Go where?!” he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Who are you, really?”
“Duh! Anybody in there?” she yelled, knocking on his head. He shoved her away and she said very slowly, “I am the ghost of Christmas Past, here to show you the Christmases of your past and the way you once were. Okay?” She grinned and added, “Get real mad if you understand.”
Negaduck was so angry he was shaking, and the spirit nodded, “Good! Let’s go!”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the ground.
“Woah, hey hey HEY!” Negaduck shouted as they floated up. “We--we’re flying!”
“Boy, you are a quick one!” she said, rolling her eyes. She pulled him along and they flew out the open window and into the night air. Negaduck thought that it should have been cold, since it was snowing after all, but he could feel nothing, not even the wind in his feathers as they rose higher and higher.
They flew into a cloud and Negaduck couldn’t see anything. “Hey, uh...Spirit,” he yelled into the void. “You lost or something? Where are we?”
“Right on time,” she replied from somewhere, and let go of his arm. The instant she did, Negaduck felt himself falling. He screamed and closed his eyes, and when he opened them and looked down he saw the ground about ten feet below him. With a thud he landed in a huge drift of snow.
The Spirit landed just beside him and watched him crawl out of the drift, giggling.
“What’s the big idea?” he yelled, coughing up snow and wiping it off his face. He shook out his nightshirt and continued, “You little so n’ so! I oughta take your stupid hockey stick and shove it where the--”
“Ssh!” she said, grabbing his bill and clamping it shut. “Look!”
Negaduck turned his head and realized that they were standing outside a large old building somewhere in the city.
“Hey...” he muttered. “How’d we get here?”
“You recognize this place?” she asked.
“Yeah...” he said slowly, his eyes softening. Then he glanced over at her and they hardened again as he said quickly, “This is the orphanage I lived at.” Then he looked eagerly around and said, “Hey, that means we’re in the Negaverse!”
“Yes,” she sighed, looking a bit uneasy about her surroundings.
Negaduck took a deep breath in and sighed contentedly. “Ah, smell that smog!” he grinned. “Even before I took over this place was a dump.”
He grinned and the Spirit said, “Look!” and pointed to the orphanage’s front yard. There, as Negaduck watched, he saw himself running towards the doorway, panting and gasping for breath. He was clutching a small package to his chest as he ran.
“Hey,” he said. “That’s me!”
The Spirit rolled her eyes and nodded. “You were six years old,” she said.
“But--why am I running?” Negaduck asked.
“Don’t you remember?” she said.
Just then a small mob of children, led by one larger duck came around the corner and swarmed around the young Negaduck. One of them blocked the orphanage’s door. The child was trapped.
“Leave me alone!” the little one yelled angrily.
“Aw, come on Drakey!” one of the bullies yelled back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you to share?”
“He don’t have a mama!” the biggest one said. “He’s nothin’ but a dirty orphan!”
“Yeah!” laughed the chours of boys.
“You guys better back off!” the young Negaduck yelled bravely. “Or...or I’ll use this!”
From out of his parcel he pulled a small plastic ring. He held it up dramatically.
Negaduck, watching this, rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead. “Stupid kid,” he muttered.
Little Drakey continued, “This is a magic ring with super freezing powers! All I have to do is point it at anyone of you and you’ll freeze right in your tracks.”
The biggest duck rolled his eyes and walked up to the young Negaduck. “You little doofus,” he snorted, snatching the ring away. “This is a Super Pig Villains decoder ring! Where’d you get this piece of plastic?”
“I--I got it...for Christmas,” the boy said weakly.
“Well,” scoffed the other. “Some Christmas present. You know what this cost?”
The young Negaduck shook his head.
“Nothing,” said the older boy. “Somebody got it out of a cereal box for free. It ain’t worth a dime, Drakey, and neither are you!”
He shoved Drake down and laughed wickedly, and all the others joined in.
“Hey you little rugrats!” Negaduck yelled suddenly. “You wanna piece a me?” He rolled up his sleeves and marched towards the youths. “Why, I oughta--”
“Negaduck, Negaduck, stop!” the Spirit yelled, standing in front of him and holding him back. “They’re just kids! And besides, they--”
“Little weasles,” Negaduck muttered. “I’m gonna rip their little heads off!”
“Negaduck, they can’t see you!” the spirit shouted.
Negaduck stopped. “They can’t?” he asked.
“No!” she sighed. “I told you that! No one can but me! Negaduck, these are merely images of the past...like a rerun! They’ve already happened, we’re just watching them! They can’t be changed!”
“Welllll....I knew that,” Negaduck snorted huffily.
“Besides,” she continued, gesturing to the boys with her head. “Looks like you’re about to get some help anyway.”
Negaduck looked up at his former self and watched as a small figure emerged from the building.
“Hey!” it cried. “You big bullies! Why don’t ya pick on someone your own size?”
The figure marched into the circle and pulled down her scarft. It was a little girl duck with brown curly hair and dark, angry eyes.
Negaduck whispered, “Laura.”
Young Drake whined, “Laura! Go away!”
The big duck strode up to the little girl and towered over her menacingly. “Someone like you?” he smirked.
“Yeah,” she growled. “Someone just like me!” With a swift move she kicked the boy hard in the shin and he yelped, jumping on one leg. Little Laura shoved him over into the snow and kicked him in the other leg. The other boys jumped her but she kicked and clawed and bit and fought them all away and soon the merry band of troublemakers was running away back down the street.
“Yeah, that’s right you bunch a lousy chickens!” she laughed after them. She dusted the snow off herself and then turned to little Negaduck, who stood soberly behind her. “Drake?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
“No, I am not okay!” he said angrily. “Jeez, Laura, you’re such a pain! Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked innocently. “I was just tryin’ to help!”
“Well, you didn’t!” he snapped, crossing his arms and turning on her. “You’re so stupid!”
“Hey!” she cried. “I am not! You’re the one who can’t fight for himself!”
“Just shut up!” he yelled. “I can too! You won’t let me!”
“You’re a big stupid-head!” the little girl cried, tears in her eyes.
“Well, you’re....ah...you’re a, a,--you’re a knob! So there!” he stormed off, yelling, “From now on just leave me alone!”
“Fine!” she yelled back. “Maybe I will!” She turned and ran back into the orphanage.
Negaduck watched himself storming away and sighed. “What a little wimp,” he said.
The Spirit turned to him and stared. “Negaduck,” she exclaimed. “Don’t you see what just happend?”
“Yeah! The little dweeb just about got the snot beat out of him,” Negaduck yelled back.
“Yeah, and that little girl saved his sorry tailfeathers!” she exclaimed.
“That little girl was just stickin’ her beak in another duck’s business,” he said, crossing his arms. “She always was.”
“And saving your tailfeathers!” she said again. Then she added in a low tone, “ ‘Thank you’ would’ve been a more appropriate response.”
He sniffed nonchalantly. “I coulda handled it,” he said. “If I had to.”
She looked at him askance. “What would you’ve done if she hadn’t shown up?”
“I would’ve run away,” he said honestly. “And gotten reinforcements.”
“What? More friends?” she asked. “If you’ll remember, you didn’t have any.”
He glared at her. “No,” he said. “More weapons.”
She sighed and said dryly, “Let’s go.”
“Are we done now?” he asked. “This has to be the stupidest dream I’ve ever had, and I want to wake up now.”
“Too bad,” she said as she grabbed his arm and they lifted off again. “You’ve still got one more stop to go.”
He groaned and she added, “Hopefully you’ll learn a little more from it then you did from the last one.”
Negaduck sneered. “Doubtful,” he said.
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He landed more gracefully this time, since the Ghost of Christmas past graciously decided not to drop him again, and when he looked around he saw they were in front of another large building, only now it was nightfall, and the building was all lit up for Christmas. Music could be heard wafting out the door when it opened, and Negaduck saw and recognized a party he had once attended.
“Well, who’d a guessed it?” he said.
“You recognize this place then too, huh?” the Spirit asked.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “This is the benefit for the orphanage,” he grumbled. “Laura used to drag me--er, I mean, I used to go every year.”
“Used to go,” the Spirit repeated. “Why’d you stop?”
Negaduck didn’t answer and the Spirit smiled. “Let’s go inside,” she said, and as she said it, it happened.
They were in the lobby of a fancy hotel. The cheerful music he’d heard before was coming from the ballroom behind him. All around them couples were laughing and heading in to the dance. “Man, I’d forgotten how many suckers went in for this thing,” Negaduck mused.
“Oh yeah,” the ghost nodded. “Don’t you remember? It was the holiday event of the negaverse St. Canard!”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s ‘cause nobody ever gave anything! They just came for the free food.”
“Speaking of freeloaders,” the Spirit said, looking at the door.
Negaduck looked and watched as another younger version of himself entered the building and shook the snow from his hat.
“Say,” Negaduck grinned. “There’s a handsome devil.”
The Spirit made a gagging sound from behind him.
“I must only be about, what, twenty? twenty-five?” he asked.
“Twenty-four,” she said.
Negaduck admired himself for a minute longer, and then turned with the younger Negaduck to the door as it opened, and in walked a beautiful twenty-four year old duck.
“It’s Laura!” Negaduck said, and the spirit nodded.
“What took you so long?” the younger duck griped, taking of his coat and straightening his jacket.
“Well, sorry Drake, but someone had to pay for the cab,” Laura said sarcastically. She started to take off her coat, an expensive looking fur, then asked, “Would you help me with this please?”
Drake rolled his eyes but helped her with her coat. “Why are we here?” he griped. “I hate coming to this stupid party, and you make me come every year!”
The old Negaduck sneered as the Ghost of Christmas Past laughed.
“Oh, Drake,” Laura said, patting her hair. “We were orphans too, you know. It’s the least we can do!”
“Why?” he exclaimed. “That place never did anything for me. Everything I have I worked for.” He brushed off the sleeves of his tuxedo haughtily.
Laura narrowed her eyes and said, “Or stole, as the case may be.”
He looked at her sharply but said only, “Hey, speak for yourself, babe.”
“She knew about your...dealings, then?” the spirit asked Negaduck.
“Yeah,” he said. “Most of them.”
“And she didn’t approve, huh?” she asked then.
“No, she didn’t approve,” Negaduck said. “But she didn’t know....”
He trailed off and turned his attention back to the young couple before them.
Laura sighed and her shoulders sagged. “Drake, please,” she said, turning to him. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, okay? Promise me you won’t purposelly tick anybody off and I swear, I’ll never make you come to one of these things again.”
“They all hate me in there,” he said, nodding towards the ballroom.
“You hate them!” she exclaimed.
“True,” he nodded. Then he looked down into her dark hopeful eyes and smiled. “You’ll ...never make me go again?” he asked, putting his arms around her.
“Never ever,” she said, smiling.
“Well,” he sighed, “Let’s get it over with then.” He gave her his arm and they entered the ballroom together.
“I love you Drake,” Laura whispered as they passed the Spirit and Negaduck.
“Yeah, yeah,” young Drake muttered.
“Awww,” said the Spirit, breaking the silence that followed their departure. “Looks like you were in love!”
“I was not,” he said defensively. “She was! She was all over me, all the time!” he shook his head, remembering. “Made it hard as heck to get any business done.”
“Oh, I see,” said the Spirit of Christmas past. “Is that why she left you?”
“Why she--?” he repeated, then shouted. “She didn’t leave me, kid, I left her! It was--it was right after this party I think. Yeah. That’s right. That’s when I told her it was over.”
“Oh,” said the Spirit. “Right.”
They walked into the other room past all the happy celebrating people until they found young Drake standing alone by the punch. Near the punch bowl was another crystal bowl, this one filled with money, donated for the orphanage. As Negaduck watched, the young Drake edged closer and closer to the table, until he was standing directly in front of the money. He turned and looked at it, a hungry look of greed coming into his eyes.
“You’re gonna steal the money for the orphanage!” the ghost yelled in shock. “How low can you get? You big jerk!”
Negaduck said nothing, but watched his former self intently.
Drake reached out to the money, then stopped suddenly. His arms fell limp to his sides and he sighed a heavy sigh. For a few minutes he just stood there, and then he looked around to see if anyone was watching, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills.
“Those look like hundreds!” the Spirit exclaimed.
Negaduck nodded as he watched young Drake toss the entire wad into the bowl.
“I thought you said no one ever gave anything,” the Spirit said softly.
“What a waste,” Negaduck said quietly, tonelessly, almost habitually. “Moochin’ orphans...”
“Hey, Mallard,” said an unfriendly voice from outside them. Drake turned and faced a large and angry looking duck.
“Peterson,” Negaduck groaned. “Oh, there’s a jerk for ya. He was the mayor’s son. A self-righteous, smart alecky son of a--”
“What do you want, Peterson?” Drake asked, stepping away from the bowl.
“Nothing,” said Peterson. “I just wanted to make sure the money was all still there.” He glanced at the bowl. “Maybe we oughta count it.”
“Be my guest,” Drake said, stepping further aside and adding under his breath, “You dumb knob.”
“What’d you say?” Peterson demanded, suddenly in Drake’s face.
Although Peterson was almost twice Drake’s size he did not back down. “I said, I didn’t steal nothing, you stupid knob.”
Peterson was going to punch him, and everyone in the room could see it, until Laura suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stepped between them again.
“See!” Negaduck demanded gesturing wildly at the scene. “See what I mean? Always interferring!”
The Spirit feigned sympathy.
“What’s going on here?” Laura demanded.
“This jerk’s calling me a thief!” Drake yelled. “I didn’t steal anything!”
“Maybe not tonight, but the rest of the time!” Peterson yelled back.
The crowd that had gathered gasped.
“All right, all right, enough,” Laura said uncomfortably. “Drake, let’s go.”
“Laura, how blind can you be?” Peterson exclaimed. “Don’t you know he’s stealing from you?”
Negaduck groaned as the Spirit watched.
“What do you mean?” Laura asked angrily.
“The whole town knows he’s embezzling millions from right under your beak!” he said, and Drake exclaimed,
“What?! Laura, he’s cracked! Don’t listen to him!”
Laura turned to Drake and stared at him. “You?” she asked in a whisper. “You’re the one that’s been bankrupting me?”
“Of course not!” Drake lied. “What, are you just gonna take this loser’s word for it?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Laura said softly, as she suddenly understood.
“What? No!” Drake yelled, avoiding her eyes. “He’s--! I--! We--!”
“I’ve been...so...so blind,” Laura said. “I mean, anyone else I expected you to, but to me?” She looked around the room, trying desparately to explain herself. “I...I just...” she stammered, unable to, and then sighed. “Good-bye, Drake,” she said, then she walked past him and out the door.
Drake watched her go, too proud to try and stop her. He stood there as if frozen, until the crowd had dispersed. Peterson called someone to have him removed from the building, but when security came he just shrugged them off and walked out on his own.
Negaduck followed, and watched himself put on his coat and hat and head out into the winter night alone. Negaduck walked through the doors and stood behind his former self. Drake walked down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
“I shoulda killed Peterson that night,” Negaduck growled, staring after himself.
“Why didn’t you?” the Spirit asked him.
Negaduck didn’t answer.
The Ghost of Christmas past looked where Negaduck was looking and said, “And that was the end of it, wasn’t it? Or the beginning, whichever. The next day you were fired, Laura kicked you out, and you were arrested for embezzlement the next work day.”
Negaduck stared blankly at nothing.
“Of course, you took it on the lamb instead of going to court and/or prison,” the Spirit continued. “You laid low for a while, changed your name to something far more threatening, then started back up...slowly at first, but soon you had a pretty large gang following you. Pretty soon you were on top of the criminal world, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Negaduck snarled, turning on her suddenly. “That’s exactly how it went. Then I took over this stupid city and was living the sweet life! I had it all! Money, fame, power! King of the world! I was happy! Why don’t we get to see any of those Christmases, huh?”
“Sorry,” she shrugged. “Not on the tour. But I could show you some depressing birthdays if you’d like!”
“Why you little---” he grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her violently. She only laughed and, to his surprise, started to glow, just as Steelbeak had. He stopped shaking her and soon she was so bright that he let her go to shield his eyes.
“You had almost everything,” she said from within the light. “But you never had Laura again, did you?”
Negaduck stopped cursing.
“Well,” the Spirit said after a pause, “I’m outta here, Negaduck. Hope you’re more friendly to the next spirit!”
“Hey, come back!” he yelled with his eyes closed. “Don’t leave me here! Don’t just leave me--”
He opened his eyes and started. He was back in his own room, sitting on his own bed! “What the--!” he said aloud.
He looked at the clock. It was just after a quarter till one.
“Man,” he breathed. “What is with me tonight?”
He stood up and went to the bathroom to get a drink of water. As he drank he glanced at himself in the mirror. His black mask, always on, was damp with perspiration, and his feathers were mussed. Frowning, he combed them down and left the bathroom, clicking the light off as he went.
As he got back in bed he wondered about what Steelbeak had said. How many spirits were there going to be? Two? Three? Negaduck sighed. It was three, he remembered.
“Of course, that was all just a dream,” he said aloud to comfort himself. “So! When I fall back asleep this time,” he threatened his brain, “let’s have some pleasant dreams about atomic explosions or midevil torture chambers or something, okay?”
With that he lay back on the pillow, just as the clock struck one.
His eyes had only been closed for a few minutes when they opened again at a curious sound. Negaduck looked around the room to try and identify it, but couldn’t. It wasn’t coming from inside, that was for sure. It was a familiar sound, but he couldn’t place it. It sounded like a humming, and it sounded like it was getting closer.
“That sounds like--” Negaduck murmered, and in his mind he had just identified it as a familiar souped-up jet plane made a very unsubtle entrance by crashing through his bedroom wall.
“Hey!” he cried. “Who-oa!”
The blast threw Negaduck out of his bed and he lay on the floor for a few minutes while the humming noise stopped and the dust cleared.
As it did so he cautiously peered over the side of his bed and gasped as he stared at the plane sitting in his bedroom. Who dared crash into Negaduck’s bedroom?! Well, whoever they were, they weren’t gonna get away with it, that was for sure!
He searched under his bed for a weapon, but finding none, stood up angrily and empty-handed.
As the plane’s dome opened slowly Negaduck stormed up to it, yelling, “All right, Mac! Come on outta there, NOW!”
Negaduck climbed onto the plane’s wing and peered into the cockpit...but there was no one there.
“Huh?” he asked aloud, but got no answer. Where was the pilot? This plane hadn’t crashed in here itself.
Negaduck gulped. Had it?
He turned around to climb down, then screamed as he found himself face to face with the ship’s pilot.
“Hi!” the pilot, a taller, well-built duck with red hair and a stupid-looking flight cap said cheerfully.
Negaduck was so startled that he fell off the plane’s wing backwards and landed on the rubble on the bedroom floor with a crash. However, he wasn’t one to stay down long, and he jumped back up and charged the intruder angrily.
“Hey!” the pilot exclaimed. “Whaddya doing?”
Then, just as Negaduck reached him, the figure disappeared. Negaduck, running full speed, tripped over a bit of wall, and fell, landing face down on the floor. When he looked up he was at the pilot’s feet.
“Let me guess,” he choked, leaning on one elbow. “You’re the next spirit.”
“Right-o!” the pilot said, smiling. He extended a hand to help Negaduck up, but Negaduck spurned it and jumped up on his own. The Spirit shrugged and said, “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. I’ve come to show you what Christmas fun you’re missing right now!”
“Oh, goody,” Negaduck rolled his eyes. He glanced at the plane behind him and asked, “Say, is there a reason you felt it absolutely necessary to crash into my bedroom? Couldn’t you have used the door, HM?”
“Oh, sorry,” the Spirit shrugged sheepishly. “I was aiming for the roof, but I ah, sorta missed.”
“Right,” Negaduck said tonelessly. Suddenly he threw his arms into the air and yelled, “Okay, this is a dream! I know it is, ‘cause it’s too stupid to be real life!”
“Why don’t ya try pinching yourself,” suggested the Ghost of Christmas Present.
“Oh, shut up,” Negaduck snapped. “When I want your advice I’ll ask for it!”
Turning his back to the stranger he pinched himself hard on the arm and winced as reality remained what he was looking at. His shoulders sagged and the Spirit appeared before him with a smile that wasn’t quite a smirk and said, “Ready to go?”
Negaduck folded his arms and muttered, “Shut up.”
“Okay!” the Spirit exclaimed.
In the next instant, Negaduck found himself strapped in the passenger seat of the plane, with the Spirit in the pilot seat. “Hey!” he yelled. “I’m not riding with you! You crash through walls!”
“Yeah, but I’m much better in the air,” the Spirit said confidently.
“Oh, that’s comforting,” Negaduck muttered, but since he was strapped in there was very little he could do about it.
They backed out of the hideout and flew into the sky with supernatural speed.
As they burst into the night sky Negaduck asked, “So, Spirit, where are we going tonight?”
“You’ll see,” was all he would say.
“Look, just don’t mess with me, bud!” Negaduck growled. “I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I’m gettin’ really sick of all this ...” he shuddered dramatically and grimaced, “..Christmas crap.”
The Spirit laughed. “It’s not crap!” he said. “Christmas is the greatest time of the year! The traditions, the gifts, the food, the family! The spirit of giving is in the air!”
“Ick, stop, stop!” Negaduck yelled, covering his ears. “You sound like those stupid knobs back at the hideout!”
“Funny you should mention,” the Spirit said casually. “Here we are!”
Negaduck looked out the plane’s dome and asked in surprise, “The Old Haunt? What are we doing here?”
The plane landed just beside the Old Haunt on the bad side of town. They were back in the Regulaverse. The Spirit explained, “This is where your friends are spending Christmas.”
“What friends?!” Negaduck shouted.
The Spirit opened the dome and suddenly Negaduck found himself untied and outside the plane, standing outside the window of the Old Haunt, a popular seedy bar for villains and criminals.
“Those friends,” the Spirit answered, appearing next to him and pointing inside. Negaduck looked in the window and saw Megavolt, Quackerjack, Bushroot and the Liquidator.
“Those guys?” he asked in disbelief. “The rest of the Five?” He started laughing uncontrollably.
“They--aren’t your friends?” the Spirit asked naively.
Negaduck continued laughing, holding his stomach. “Those duds aren’t worth the space they’re taking up!” he exclaimed.
“Then why do you hang around them?” asked the Spirit.
“I don’t,” Negaduck snapped, his laughter vanishing. “They hang around me.” He shrugged then and sniffed. “Aw, they’re okay if you want an easy job pulled fast and there’s no one else to call,” he said. “Their super powers come in handy every now and then.”
“Ah, I see,” said the Spirit. “Strictly a business relationship then.”
“Yes,” Negaduck rolled his eyes. “If even that.” The Spirit nodded and Negaduck asked, “So, what is the knob squad doing here anyway?”
“Well,” the Spirit sighed, peering through the window. “They came to spend Christmas here since you won’t let them have one.”
“Tsch,” Negaduck snorted. “Pathetic.”
“Hmm,” said the Spirit as he turned his attention to the action inside.
“Hey, Quackerjack, come on!” Megavolt yelled towards the kitchen.
“It’s coming!” came the muffled reply.
“Dinner: allow four to six weeks for delivery,” the Liquidator muttered.
“Well,” said Bushroot optimistically. “At least we had time to set up the table!”
The three of them were seated around a door resting on two sawhorses. Megavolt rolled his eyes as Bushroot unfolded a white square table cloth and draped it across the door. “Hm,” he pondered. “It’s too small.”
“Turn it diagonal,” Liquidator advised. “That’s the proper thing to do in this situation.”
“Who cares?!” Megavolt yelled. Leaning back in his chair he cupped his hands and yelled, “QUACKERJACK!”
“Coming!” Quackerjack sang as he danced into the room. He was carrying a large covered silver platter, and at the sight of it the others scooted up to the table eagerly. Quackerjack set the platter down and held on to the lid.
“Whad’jya fix?” asked Megavolt eagerly.
Quackerjack eagerly lifted the silver cover and proclaimed, “Chicken Suprise!”
The others gasped and Negaduck rolled his eyes.
“It’s a--” Megavolt stammered, poking the entre with his fork. “It’s a rubber chicken!”
“Quackerjack, you idiot!” the Liquidator moaned, tossing his silverware away.
“What?” Quackerjack asked, wide-eyed. “You don’t like chicken?” Megavolt tossed his plate towards the window and got up. He started pacing around the room angrily.
“Well, at least he didn’t fix steamed vegetables like he did last year,” Bushroot said dismally.
“Hey,” Megavolt exclaimed, suddenly cheerful again. “Let’s skip dinner and get straight to the presents, huh?”
“Okay,” Bushroot said, and Liquidator nodded.
“Oh, goody!” Quackerjack giggled.
They all sat back down around the table and the Liquidator said, “Let’s start with you Megavolt.”
“Okay!” Megavolt said happily. “Let me have ‘em.”
“No,” the Liquidator frowned after a pause, “I mean, you give first.”
“Oh!” Megavolt said with a nervous chuckle. “Right. Well, I couldn’t actually get you guys anything, cause, well, you know, Negaduck only gave me $20, and, after all, I--well, I still have to get him something, so I--”
“No presents for us?” Quackerjack whimpered.
“No presents for us,” Liquidator sighed while Megavolt rambled on. The Liquidator smacked him on the back of the head to make him stop, then said, “Bushroot, what’d you get us?”
“Ah!” Bushroot smiled. He pulled out a medium-sized box and set it on the table.
“I,” he said dramatically. “Got you these!”
He pulled off the box’s top and the others peered inside it. Outside the window, Negaduck stood on his toes to see.
“They’re Christmas cacti!” Bushroot exclaimed merrily. “See? One little guy for each of you!”
“Christmas cacti?” Megavolt repeated. “Is that a plant?”
“Of course!” Bushroot laughed. “Just like our tree this year!” He held one out for Megavolt to take. Megavolt, annoyed, grabbed at it, yelling sarcastically,
“Well, gee, what a great Christmas gift, Bushroot! A Christmas Cac--YEOUCH!” He pulled back his hand in pain quickly. “That hurt!”
“Only hold it by the pot and it won’t hurt, ya dummy!” Bushroot snapped.
“Well you never told us that!” Megavolt yelled.
“Dumber than advertised!” the Liquidator declared. With one broad and wet gesture he swept the box of cacti off the table and said, “Let’s move on, shall we?”
“Hey!” Bushroot shouted. He fell to the floor to help his scattered cacti.
“Right,” the Liquidator ignored him. “Well, I got us all a present. I spent my twenty on this!” He pulled out a very large and impressive looking contraption and set it down on the table with a thud.
“Ooh, what is it?” Megavolt and Quackerjack asked in unison. Bushroot stood up to look.
“It’s a Juicemaster 2000!” the Liquidator announced. “It slices, it dices, it gets rid of those pesky seeds forever! That’s right, friends, for only $19.95 you too can make juice and juice-related products right in your own home!” As he spoke, the Liquidator waved his arms and demostrated various parts of the machine. “AND! The Juicemaster 2000 comes with your own stainless steel fruit peeler! Dishwasher safe and fully compatible with most known fruits, the Juicemaster 2000 is guaranteed to double your juice-making productivity!”
“Double?” Quackerjack asked, amazed. “I don’t believe it!”
“Believe it friend,” the Liquidator grinned. “And if you’re not completely satisfied you may return the Juicemaster 2000 within seven days for a full refund!”
“Wow,” Megavolt said. “But, gee, I’ve tried a lot of home juicers before, and never have been able to get that frozen, out-of-the-can taste I’m looking for.”
“Well, search no more, for the Juicemaster 2000 is recommended by the FJA!” the Liquidator said.
“The FJA?” the others asked together.
“Frozen Juice Association!” the Liquidator exclaimed.
“Wow! I’ll take it!” Megavolt exclaimed, pulling out his twenty.
“But--” Bushroot started, but the Liquidator cut him off.
“Beautiful!” he said, snatching the twenty from Megavolt and shoving the machine at him. “Believe me friend, it’s the deal of the century! You won’t be sorry! Refund offer not avaliable in this state. Pleasure to business with you! Enjoy your Juicemaster 2000!”
“Cool!” Megavolt said happily.
“Oh, brother,” Negaduck groaned. He turned to the Spirit. “Look, how much more of this we gotta watch! I already know how stupid these jerks are! Why do I have to watch ‘em now?”
“Just watch,” the Spirit said.
“Hey guys,” Quackerjack asked. “You ready for my present?” He pulled out a rather large box and set it on the table.
“Yeah!” the others said, gathering around it eagerly.
“Okay, here it is!” he said. He removed the boxes top and a great deal of various pie toppings splattered quickly out on all of them. The others
“Blech!” Megavolt shouted, dripping with meringue. “What-what is this?!”
“I’ve been working on my baking,” Quackerjack explained. “So I baked you each a pie!”
He squealed with delight. The Liquidator wiped a glob of chocolate mouse off his face and growled. Bushroot reached up and felt a mess of whipped cream in his plant-like hair and glared at Quackerjack. Megavolt licked his lips and puckered. “Lemon?” he asked, angrily. “I hate lemon!” The three encircled the toymaker threateningly.
“What’s the matter?” Quackerjack asked. “You don’t like pie?”
“Get him!” the Liquidator barked, and at once the three sprang. Quackerjack yelped and a battle ensued.
Outside at the window, the Spirit gave Negaduck a mournful look. “I see an empty place at this table,” he said.
“I see four of ‘em,” Negaduck shrugged. “What’s your point?”
“No, I mean, next year,” the Spirit said.
Negaduck looked skeptically at him, then at the four, then back at the Spirit. “You’re kidding, right?”
The Spirit shook his head.
“Oh, come off it!” Negaduck exclaimed. “Those guys couldn’t kill a fly, let alone one another!”
“Are you sure?” the Spirit asked.
“Positive,” Negaduck said firmly.
“Only fools are positive,” the Spirit smiled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Negaduck demanded.
“It means it’s time to skeedaddle,” the Spirit said. “Let’s go.”
They were back in the plane then, and as they took off, Negaduck commented, “I don’t get it. That was pointless!”
“What?” asked the Spirit.
“I mean, if the rest of the Fearsome Five are gonna--” he snorted, “kill Quackerjack tonight, what am I supposed to do about it? Is it my fault he’s a moron who gave them a stupid Christmas gift?”
“No, but maybe if you let them have a Christmas at the hideout, instead of making them go elsewhere...” the Spirit said thoughtfully.
“But what does that matter?” Negaduck yelled. “Kill him there or kill him at the hideout, whichever!”
“No, if they were at the hideout you would be there to break it up,” said the Spirit.
“Yeah, but--” Negaduck began, then stopped. The Spirit was right. He was always breaking up squawls amongst the others, if for no other reason than to get some work done.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Here we are!” the Spirit announced then.
Negaduck blinked. He hadn’t realized they’d landed. “Where are we?” he asked, then added snidely, “Is it a little more significant than the last stop?”
“I dunno,” the Spirit shrugged. “You’ll have to tell me.”
Negaduck found himself in the den of an old Victorian mansion. The house was decorated gaily and he heard voices from the next room. Somewhere Christmas music was playing softly.
“Oh, man, another Christmas party?” Negaduck moaned.
“Not just any Christmas party!” the Spirit said.
“Well, I wouldn’t know!” a dramatic voice declared loudly from the next room.
“Tuskernini?” Negaduck asked the Spirit.
They entered the next room and Negaduck said, “It is Tuskernini! And there’s Moliarty and Taurus Bulba--boy he looks bad--and the Chameleon and the Bugmaster...there’s Col. Trenchrot...and the Cheese gang...even some FOWL eggmen over there. Hey!” Negaduck said slowly. “This must be the St. Canard Villain’s Christmas Party!” The Spirit nodded and Negaduck smirked. “Well, what a pretty picture. The gang’s all here!” He frowned. “Except, of course, for my gang.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hm,” he said. “Our invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”
Suddenly, and yet somehow on cue, the door opened and the Fearsome Four strode into the room.
“Hey everyone!” Megavolt said joyfully. “We’re here!”
“Let the party begin!” the Liquidator added.
“What?!” Negaduck yelled. “What are they doing here? We left them at the Old Haunt about to kill Quackerjack!”
Quackerjack bounded in after them, doing an awkward sommersault in front of the Spirit and Negaduck. He was bruised and bleeding and had both arms in a cast. Still, he was giggling like a maniac as always, and he hurried up to the buffet table.
“Oh no you don’t!” Bushroot stopped him. “You heard us! No food for you ‘till we say so! That was the punishment, right guys?”
Megavolt and the Liquidator nodded ominously at Quackerjack, who whimpered and sat down meekly in a chair across the room.
“ ‘An empty place at this table,’ you said,” Negaduck said to the Spirit. “That’s what that meant?”
The Spirit shrugged. “They could kill him later,” he guessed, and Negaduck shook with anger.
“Listen pal,” he growled, grabbing the Spirit by his flight scarf. “If you don’t quit shrugging with this dumb act, I’m gonna--”
“Welcome, gentlemen, welcome!” Tuskernini declared, and Negaduck turned. “Please, have a seat. We were just playing charades.” He glared at the other villains around him and added, “Though not well, I fear. The acting talent here is almost nonexistant.”
“Yeah, blow it out yer ear,” snapped the leader of the Cheese gang.
Tuskernini ignored him. “Won’t you join us then?” he asked the four.
They all took seats on opposing team and the game began again. As the Chameleon took her turn, Negaduck asked the Spirit, “So, I don’t get it. Why am I not at this party?”
“You want to come to this party?” asked the Spirit in shock.
“No, of course not,” Negaduck said quickly. “But--why wasn’t I invited?! I’m Negaduck!”
“Yes,” nodded the Spirit. “You are.”
“The rest of the five was invited,” Negaduck said bitterly. “Why didn’t they tell me?”
“Maybe they didn’t think you cared?” suggested the Spirit.
“Well, I don’t care, of course!” Negaduck shouted. “But boy are they gonna get it for not telling me!”
“But--” the Spirit began, but Negaduck’s ranting interrupted him.
“I mean, jeez, look!” he exclaimed, gesturing at the villains. “Even Lillyput is here! Come on!”
“Well--” the Spirit tried again.
“Ooh, somebody’s goin’ down for this...” Negaduck muttered vengefully. “Big time...”
The Spirit sighed.
“All right then, all right,” Tuskernini announced over the villains laughter. “Who’s next?”
“Me! Me! Mee!” yelled Quackerjack. “PICK ME!”
“Oh, all right,” Tuskernini sighed. “Quackerjack.” Aside he whispered, “Better to get it over with now.”
“What’s the category?” asked an eggman.
“ ‘People,’ ” Tuskernini replied as he sat down.
Quackerjack giggled again, then started his charade. He put a sour look on his face and sat down on the floor. He began miming something that looked like money counting.
“Counting money!” Megavolt yelled.
“It’s a person, you idiot!” Taurus Bulba said sharply.
Quackerjack nodded eagerly, then hastened to put the mean expression back on his face. He breathed on his knuckles then rubbed them on his chest in an action of pride and grinned cockily. Then, without warning he jumped up, picked up the chair he’d been sitting on and threw it at the far wall. It hit one of Moliarty’s henchmoles and Quackerjack mimed maniacal laughter. Then he quickly pulled out a semi-automatic weapon and opened fire on the room.
Everyone screamed and ducked behind furniture and each other until Quackerjack finally stopped shooting. As the dust cleared, Negaduck asked, “What is that lunatic doing?”
The villains began to stir and Col. Trenchrot jumped up and proclaimed, “I say, I know! I know who it is!”
“Who else could it be?” Bushroot coughed, standing.
“Gee,” said Megavolt. “The only greedy, psychotic, ego-manical solicitor of total, wanton and mindless destruction I know is--”
“NEGADUCK!” the entire room exclaimed in unison, then fell into fits of laughter.
Quackerjack laughed, “You guessed it!”
Negaduck’s eyes widened. “Me?” he asked the Spirit, who nodded silently. Negaduck scowled. “They were imiating....me?”
“Oh, heavens,” Tuskernini sighed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Aren’t we grateful he hasn’t shown up this year?”
“Eeegawds, yes,” Col. Trenchrot nodded. “Remember last year? He blew up the cake and poisoned the punch.”
“Then he tried to see how many eggmen he could fit up the chimney!” said an eggman bitterly.
“Of course, mindless destruction has it’s place,” said, Moliarty smiling still. “But this is a social event! It’s a party for goodness sake. A formal one, even!”
“In manner, if not in dress,” Taurus Bulba said, glancing at some of the guests.
“What bothers me is how he thinks it’s his party,” said the Bugmaster. She laughed. “As if anyone would throw a party for him!”
“Voluntarily, anyway,” added Bushroot.
They all laughed and the Spirit looked at Negaduck, glaring at the guests. “See, Negaduck,” he said. “That’s why they didn’t invite ya this year. You’re a jerk!”
“I’m a villain,” he growled, his eyes staring straight ahead. “I’m supposed to be a jerk.”
“All these folks are villains,” the Spirit said, waving his arm at the room. “That doesn’t mean they can’t get together and have a good time, especially at Christmas.”
“You,” Negaduck said, straightening his posture and folding his arms, “Are a buffoon. Why would anybody want to hang around with this pitiful bunch of losers?” He asked. “Least of all me! I am Negaduck! These dorks are light years behind my evil prowess.”
“Well,” the Spirit sighed after a pause. “No argument there.” He gave one last glance to the festivities then said, “But maybe you should think about whether or not that’s such a good thing. People as, ahem, ‘advanced’ as you are tend to get awful lonely.”
“Yeah, well maybe you ougta shove--” Negaduck whirled around to face the Spirit then stopped. The spector had vanished. “Hey--” Negaduck said. He turned around in a complete circle and stammered as everything around him disappeared. “Hey, Spirit!” he shouted. “Hey where’d you go? Yo, stupid!”
Negaduck stopped yelling and sighed. “Great,” he muttered. “Now what?” He found himself standing in the midst of a thick fog. He could barely see his hand in front of his face, and was therefore uneasy about moving. “Stupid spirits,” he grumbled. “Prob’ly left me right next to a cliff.”
With nothing else to do he cupped his hands around his beak. “Yoo-hoo!” he yelled sarcastically. “Helllooo! Anybody out there? Anybody at all?”
Negaduck turned abruptly when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, and his eyes opened wide at what he saw. Standing before him was a tall, ghastly figure wearing a long black cloak with a hood that shielded all but the end of it’s pale bill. He carried a long staff and there was an eerie cold about him. Negaduck felt a chill run down his spine despite his skeptical facade.
“You--” he began, stepping back a little. “Are you the third spirit?”
The creature nodded silently.
“Ghost of Christmas future, right?” he asked next.
The Spirit nodded again.
“Well, uh--” Negaduck looked around nervously. “Why don’t you talk?”
The Spirit shook his head, but said nothing.
“Ookaaay...” Negaduck said slowly. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was unnverved by the Spirit’s silence, and by the fact that he could not see it’s face. In the hood beyond the tip of his beak there was nothing to be seen but dark, secretive shadows.
Negaduck felt a breeze just then--the first thing he had actually felt all night--and suddenly he was aware of the temperature as well. It was cold, and Negaduck shivered as he watched the fog begin to dissipate. “Where’re we going?” he asked, and with his staff the Spirit pointed to a building that had appeared before them. Negaduck recognized it and groaned. “Not the Old Haunt again!” he whined.
The Spirit gestured to the door of the hangout and it opened slowly. The Spirit pointed and Negaduck nodded. “In, huh? Okay,” he said tartly, and stepped inside.
There, seated at the bar were three members of the Fearsome Five. Negaduck rolled his eyes and flopped down wearily on a chair at the sight of them. “Perfect,” he muttered.
The Liquidator, Bushroot and Megavolt silently sat, moping. “What a Christmas,” the Liquidator glumly after some time. “Bah Humbug.”
“I hate Christmas,” Megavolt grumbled.
“We could open presents, guys!” Bushroot said bravely. “C’mon, lets! Maybe it’ll get us outta the dumps.”
“Aw, who’s got the heart without Quackerjack here?” Megavolt said, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand.
Negaduck turned his head and sat up.
“Yeah,” the Liquidator sighed. “I actually miss the maniac.”
“We shouldn’t have lost our tempers like that,” Bushroot shook his head sadly, and the others murmered an agreement.
Negaduck looked at the Spirit in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked. “I mean--you are kidding!” He looked back to the gang, then back at the Spirit. “Really,” he said. “There’s no way those three could’ve--” He paused. “Could they?”
The Spirit seemed to ignore him.
“Remember how he used to make us laugh with his silly antics and lethal toys?” Megavolt sighed fondly.
“Make us crazy you mean,” the Liquidator laughed.
“Remember how he used to bake us pies?” Bushroot asked. “And cook for us?”
“Yeah,” the other two replied.
“And then we’d beat him up,” Megavolt smiled, and the others chuckled.
“Oh, puh-leease!” Negaduck groaned, slapping his forehead. Frusterated he marched up to Megavolt and yelled, “You stupid moron, you hated all those things about him! Every time he built a new toy he’d test it on you and you’d come whining to me about your wounds!”
Megavolt only sighed and leaned on his arm.
“And you!” Negaduck yelled at the plant-duck. “You hated his cooking! He always made something with vegetables in it, remember? Once he even tried to cook you!”
Bushroot got up and poured himself a drink.
“And Liquidator, you were more ticked off then any of ‘em about those stupid pies!” Negaduck shouted in vain. “I saw it, you were!” He backed away, his arms flailing wildly as he ranted. “You’re all a bunch of idiots! You hated Quackerjack, and now that he’s dead you--”
“Hey, I got an idea!” Megavolt said suddenly. Everyone, including Negaduck turned to him. “Why don’t we go visit Quackerjack?!”
“Excuse me?” Negaduck said quickly.
“Yeah!” the Liquidator exclaimed. “That’ll cheer him and us up!”
“Then we can give him his gift,” Bushroot added, producing a large lemon-marange pie from behind the bar. “Hope he likes it,” he said, smirking.
“I’ll get the name of the hospital,” Megavolt said, jumping up.
“Hospital?” Negaduck asked.
“Gee, you think he’ll want to see us?” Bushroot asked. “I mean, we are the ones who put him there.”
“Well, he had to get that appendix out someday!” the Liquidator replied.
“Hospital?” Negaduck said again, his voice low, but growing. “The hospital? That’s where Quackerjack is this Christmas!? And--and they didn’t even put him there!? It was just his appendix?! Why, you--” Furious, he sprang at the closest target, Bushroot, but the Spirit stopped him in midair with a wave of his staff.
Suspended, Negaduck yelled, “Hey! Let me down you stupid spirit! Let me down!”
The Spirit did, and Negaduck fell to the floor with a smack. “Oof!” he cried, and when he looked up the surroundings had changed. Now he was standing not in the Old Haunt, but in his own dear detestable hideout. “I’m home!” he exclaimed, jumping up quickly. “Yes!”
However before he had much time to rejoice he felt someone rush by him and he looked down to see two familiar but nameless street punks hurrying to the door.
“What’d you get?” one asked.
“Just his sheets,” the other replied. “But they are real silk!”
“Ha!” laughed the other, holding up a receipt. “I got his computer.”
“Ooo,” the other acknowledged defeat.
Suspicious, Negaduck turned and looked to the room they had come from, and when he recognized it exclaimed, “Hey! Hey, what’s going on here?” He looked and saw a few more people exiting, arms full, his bedroom. “Hey!” he yelled again, running towards it.
Inside his room was a sort of miniature auction. The auctioneer was an unfamiliar face, but most of the clientel were street urchins Negaduck had stepped over before.
“All right,” the auctioneer said loudly. “Now, how much am I bid for this fine solid oak bed you see before ye, how much? It’s real oak, folks, finest in the country, now how much?”
“I’ll give ya two bucks,” said one fat woman.
“Two bucks?!” Negaduck exclaimed. “I paid $200! Or I would’ve, if I hadn’t stolen it!” Angrily he shoved his way through the crowd while the Spirit watched silently. “You can’t do this,” he shouted. “This is my bed!”
“Enough of this kid’s stuff,” someone from the crowd shouted. “Where’s the real goods?”
The crowd cheered their agreement and the auctioneer smiled nervously. “Of course,” he said, pounding with his gabble to restore order. “I uh--I was just about to get to that.” He gestured for some larger, more goonish gentlemen to join him up front then said, “Well, folks, you see how it is, is, well--” he sighed dramatically. “Now, we all know that there should’ve been a great deal of loot ‘round here to auction off. Fact is, we couldn’t find a bit of it! Searched high and low, near and far, ev’ry square inch of this warehouse, and didn’t come up with a thing but what you see before ya.”
The crowd grumbled. “You mean there’s no diamonds to sell?” someone yelled.
“That’s what I mean exactly,” the auctioneer replied, nodding.
The crowd’s grumbling increased in volume, but, hearing there was nothing more valuable than a two-dollar bed to be had, they soon dispearsed and left the auctioneer and his hired-goons alone in Negaduck’s bedroom.
Negaduck strode over to the Spirit and smirked, “They must not have found my safe,” he said proudly. “Heh. Guess that’ll show any--”
“They gone?” the auctioneer asked.
“They’re gone,” Goon One nodded.
“Good,” he smirked. The auctioneer sat down on the bed and pulled out from under it a large box that Negaduck recognized as his own.
“HEY!” he yelled.
“What a haul, what a haul, what a haul!” the auctioneer laughed greedily. He opened the box and the goons drooled over the pile of money and jewels within. “Here’s your cut,” the auctioneer said after a bit more admiration. He handed them each a wad of bills and some diamonds. “The rest is mine.”
“No it’s not!” Negaduck screamed. “You lousy thief!” He paced the floor angrily, knowing he was helpless.
“I tell you boys,” the auctioneer said happily, shutting the box. “I never had such an easy score. The safe was hidden in almost plain sight! I just walked right in and took it. Then made a pretty penny selling some of this junk too!” He laughed and Negaduck stopped pacing and turned to the Spirit.
“Who is this loser?” he demanded. “Who is this--this--this nobody who’s making off with my fortune! Where’s the Fearsome Five? This is their hideout!”
“Welp, let’s go fellas,” the auctioneer grinned, packing up his things. “Our work here is done.”
“NO!” Negaduck yelled, standing in front of the man to stop him. “You’re not going anywhere with my money, you little nothing!”
The auctioneer walked right through Negaduck as though he wasn’t there, and Negaduck turned and watched him go. When the door shut behind them, Negaduck was left alone in the near-empty room with only the silent Spirit and the echo of the con-man’s greedy laughter.
“This...” Negaduck growled after a pause. “Is a crock.” He marched up to the Spirit and exclaimed, “There is no way this would happen to me! No way is this my future! I would never let myself get robbed like this! I’d never leave that much loot unguarded! What do I look, stupid or something?”
The Spirit was still.
“Oh, fine!” Negaduck snapped. “Don’t answer, I don’t care you stupid ghost. But tell me this, if you’re so all-knowing. Where am I while all this is taking place? Am I supposed to believe that I just sat by idly while I was robbed blind?! Is that it?? Where am I??!”
The Spirit nodded slowly, then turned around and left the room. Negaduck sighed peevishly but followed.
The Spirit led him outside and down the street, clear out to the edge of town.
Negaduck wondered where they were going--where he could be--that was so out of the way, but he didn’t question or complain. He would’ve, but he was still nervous about this Spirit, and the fact that as they walked outside, for the first time Negaduck could feel the cold December weather, and the bitter dampness around him chilled him to the bone. He found himself longing for more than the nightshirt he wore.
Finally the Spirit stopped and Negaduck looked around.
“The cemetary?” he asked crossly. “What’re we doing here?”
The Spirit pointed with his staff through the iron gates and into the cemetary.
Negaduck rolled his eyes and started up the path. The sky was dark and grey. It looked like it could turn into a dark and stormy night any minute. “Where am I going?” Negaduck shouted back to the Spirit. Before the Spirit could reply--not like he would’ve said much anyway--Negaduck tripped on something and fell hard on the damp ground.
Exhausted and inwardly furious, Negaduck leaned up on one elbow and opened his mouth to curse, but shut it quickly when he saw the tombstone in front of him.
“What the--” he gasped, jumping up quickly and backing away.
The tombstone, newer than it’s surroundings marked a fresh grave, its’ earthen cover still muddy and baren of grass. Etched in its ordinary cement surface were the words, “HERE LIES NEGADUCK, SCOUNDREL AND FIEND,” and below that the year of his birth and--
“What is this?” he turned quickly on the Spirit. “This says my name on it! But I’m not--” Suddenly it clicked and Negaduck’s expression went from confusion to anger. “Oh I get it,” he growled. “I get it! Now I’m dead, right? And oh, boo-hoo, there’s no one to mourn me! No mourners for Negaduck, ‘Scoundrel and Fiend’ because of his bitter life of torment and degredation to others. Is that it?”
The Spirit said nothing.
“Well now what?” Negaduck folded his arms, turning away from the headstone. “Am I supposed to be changed by this, is that how it works?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as rage filled him. “’Cause I’ll tell you right now, Spirit,” he growled. “I’m not!”
With that he lept at the Spirit, and, catching him around the middle, pulled him struggling to the ground. The two fought for a bit while the approaching storm flashed and thundered above them, and then, just as a lightening bolt lit up the dark sky, Negaduck grabbed the Spirit’s hood and pulled it back to reveal his face.
When it did Negaduck recoiled in horror.
“You?” he gasped, recognizing the face of his own heroic goody-goody look alike. He exploded in anger. “YOU!?!”
“Hi-ya, Negs,” Darkwing said with a grin.
Negaduck roared and attacked the Spirit more ferociously than before. “Whoa!” cried the Spirit, “Cool it, Negaduck, stop!”
Negaduck ignored him and they wrestled violently about until Negaduck had him pinned.
“Oof,” said the Spirit, and as Negaduck leaned over him, still snarling, he sighed. “Do you feel better now?” he asked calmly.
“I will feel better,” Negaduck said angrily. “As soon as I rip your face off and feed it to the jackals!” With his last words he shook Darkwing’s body forcefully. Then he stopped and said, “I shoulda known you were behind this. But how?” He glared at him. “How’d you set this all up?”
“Negaduck,” the pinned one replied. “I’m not Darkwing Duck. I just took on the form of someone you know to make it easier for you. All of us Spirits did.”
“Liar!” Negaduck roared, shaking him again. “You are too Darkwing! I’d know your sniveling face anywhere!”
Darkwing sighed and said, “Okay, you want proof? Here’s proof.” Suddenly he disappeared and Negaduck was sitting alone on the cold ground.
“Hey!” he yelled. “Come back here you coward!”
“I am here,” the Spirit said from behind him, and Negaduck whirled around to charge him, but when he tried to move he found himself frozen.
“Now listen to me, Negaduck,” Darkwing said seriously. “You’ve been given something tonight many villains never receive--a warning and a second chance.” He leaned down level with Negaduck’s frozen glare and said, “If you change nothing else, change this in yourself: accept the fact that Christmas is special, divine and magical. It is the greatest time of the year, and it is not your job to make it otherwise, for even if you wanted to you couldn’t.”
“Now,” said the Spirit, pulling up his hood. “Close your eyes.”
Inwardly Negaduck rolled his eyes and groaned, but outwardly, of course, he did nothing.
“Oh, right,” the Spirit laughed sheepishly. “Frozen. Right. Sorry.”
He picked up and waved his staff and Negaduck was free. He wanted to thrash the Spirit he now hated so passionately, but rather he stood still, his arms crossed and his expression sour.
“Close your eyes,” the Spirit said again.
“Bite me,” Negaduck replied.
The Spirit said nothing, but shrugged and said, “You want the hard way then? Okay. One hard way home, coming right up!” He swung his staff around once then brought it down swiftly on Negaduck’s head. Negaduck blacked out fell to the ground.
The Spirit chuckled looking down on him. “Boy,” he said. “I love this job.”
*****
Negaduck awoke with a start. “What?” he asked aloud, sitting bolt upright. “Where--?”
He looked around and was surprised to find himself back in his own bed, in his own room, in his own hideout. The blankets and sheets were still above and beneath him, and his computer was safe in the corner. The wall was completely intact, and outside he could see the sun shining on a brisk winter morning.
“I’m back,” he said softly. “I’m back!” Suddenly he remembered something and he jumped out of bed and ran to his safe. There he found, just as it had always been, his piles of money and treasures. “It’s all here!” he rejoiced. “Every red cent! It’s here!” He laughed maniacally.
Negaduck looked at the clock and saw that it was eight a.m. Hurriedly he opened his window, then shuddered at the cold breeze. Below him on the street he saw a small bespeckled duckling in a green and red sweater walking along quickly.
“Hey, you!” Negaduck shouted down to him. “Hey! Kid!”
The boy looked up, then looked around uncertainly. “Um...Me?” he asked, pointing to himself with a mittened hand.
“No, the baby goat behind you,” Negaduck yelled sarcastically. “Yes, you! What day is it?”
“What day is it?” the boy repeated in suprise. “Why, um, it’s Christmas day, sir.”
“Nuts,” Negaduck muttered, then disappeared back into the window. “Guess I didn’t miss it,” he said. “Oh well.” He got dressed and checked himself in the mirror. “Lookin’ good,” he smirked, then headed out the door.
The Fearsome Five were nowhere in the hideout, so Negaduck jumped on his motorcycle and hurried to the Old Haunt. He marched inside and found the four asleep at various places in the room.
“WAKE UP!” he yelled, and they all did quickly.
“What?” Bushroot jumped.
“Huh?” Megavolt exclaimed, falling off the pool table.
Quackerjack sat up quickly and looked around. “Negaduck!” he exclaimed, as the Liquidator sat up and yawned.
“Boss!” he said. “What’re you doing here?”
“Here,” Negaduck said sharply. He tossed them each a hundred dollar bill and said, “This is to buy me a present. And it’d better be good!” Then he rolled his eyes and added, “Whatever’s left you can spend on yourself.”
“Gee,” Quackerjack said dryly. “How generous.”
“It is generous!” Negaduck shouted, and Quackerjack jumped. “What are you losers doing here anyway?” Negaduck asked.
“We’re gonna have Christmas here, boss,” Megavolt explained. “Moe’s out of town and said we could and since we couldn’t at the hideout, we--”
“Shut up!” Negaduck yelled. “I don’t care if you have your stupid Christmas at the hideout or not.” He glanced at Quackerjack and added, “Actually, you’d better, just in case you get in a fight and try and kill each other.”
He glanced back over at the others, staring at him in shock and bellowed, “‘Cause if anyone’s gonna kill anybody, it’s gonna be me!”
They stepped back and Negaduck thought of something else. “Which reminds me,” he said coolly. He stepped up to Bushroot, the weakest of the four, and said gently, “Bushroot, have you by chance heard anything about the St. Canard Villains Christmas party?”
“Well, boss, I...” Bushroot stammered. “I uh, well, you know if I did I may not remember but um, I don’t really think that--”
Negaduck glared at him, but then asked sweetly, “It’s tonight, isn’t it?”
“Um,” Bushroot faltered, then finally nodded.
“Perfect,” Negaduck smiled, walking towards the door. “I’ve been waiting for an oppurtunity to try out my new grenade launcher.”
The other three groaned and Negaduck grinned. “But boss!” Megavolt whined.
“Shut up!” Negaduck yelled. “And get out of here! You’re going back to the hideout, all of you! I’m starving!”
“Ooo,” Quackerjack squealed. “I’ll cook!”
“Oh, no you won’t!” Negaduck shook his head. “Bushroot, you cook something.”
“But we wanna--” Megavolt started again, but Negaduck stopped him, yelling,
“NOW!”
The four scuttled outside and Negaduck heard them start the van. “You comin’ boss?” the Liquidator yelled.
“I’ll follow you!” he replied, and once they had gone he started his bike and drove down the street in the opposite direction.
He drove quickly on until he found the first of what he was looking for, a man in a Santa suit ringing a bell on the corner. Negaduck pulled around the corner and parked pretty far away, then put on a large grey trenchcoat that had been in storage in his bike. He walked down the street quickly and intently, his eyes down and pulling his hat over his face.
When he reached the santa he waited until the fellow was looking the other way, then quickly threw something in his pot and hurried away.
The duck in the Santa suit felt something drop into his pot and looked down. Suddenly he stopped ringing his bell and picked up the pot for closer examination. “Hm,” he murmered, as he reached into his pot and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.
He stared at it, then looked down the street in all directions, but could see no one around him, so he shrugged and put his pot for the orphanage back in place. “Merry Christmas!” he called out in his loudest Santa voice. “Merry Christmas!”
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And a happy New Year. Story by Angela McDermott, copyright 1999. Characters all copyright Disney and used w/o permission, except Laura and Petersen and the other nameless orphans and those at the party who gasped, who are all copyright me. Please don’t use this story or without asking.