The Voice was singing as she and Megavolt left the principal’s office. “‘We’re in the money! We’re in the money!’”
He joined in: “‘We’ve got a lot of what it takes to get along!’”
They both laughed.
“Wow. This is pretty cool. That’s the first time I was ever in the principal’s office for a good reason,” The Voice remarked. “Er, loose definition of the word “good”, I suppose.”
“You went there a lot?” asked Megavolt.
She held up two fingers. “Once here, once in high school.”
“What for?
“Made Stanley Fowls squirt glue out of his nose in fourth grade.”
Megavolt burst out laughing. “What?!”
“He was messing around showing off to Cynthia Barker and I made a funny noise at the wrong moment. Or should I say, the right one.” She snickered.
“And the second time?”
“Oh.” The Voice’s face darkened a little, remembering. “Junior year. Force-fed Danny “Jerk-face” Kohen an eraser.” She frowned.
Megavolt blinked. “Who’s Danny “Jerk-face” Kohen?”
“Ah, just a guy. You know—he used to make fun of me. Elementary, junior high, high school: he defined my scholastic existence. He was there all through it. Elementary school--‘You’re so fat, Heron!’” she said in a snotty child’s voice. “Junior high--” In a deeper, husky male voice: “Her-o-in! Her-o-in!” She shrugged, misinterpreting the expression on Megavolt’s face. “I know, he wasn’t very creative.”
“I guess not,” said Megavolt. Actually he was noticing the name. Heron. Was that The Voice’s real name? This was the first time she’d ever mentioned it. Megavolt figured he’d store it away for future reference, but he knew he was probably just going to forget. He wondered if she actually had told him it before and he had already forgotten it then. The thought made him feel kind of bad for some reason. “So why did you wait until your junior year to get back at him?”
The Voice shrugged. “Didn’t matter when he was just making fun of me. But then one day he made this crack about my brother. I kinda took exception to it.” She looked at him. “So what did you go to the principal’s office for?”
“Nothing. I never did anything wrong.”
The Voice stared. “You’re joking.”
Megavolt looked at the ground. “Well, I did go a couple times for other stuff.”
“What?”
“Spelling Bee. I was the school rep. And a couple Science Fair awards.”
The Voice stared at him. Then she started laughing. “You goody-two-shoes!”
Megavolt couldn’t help it. He laughed as well. Then they both started singing again: “We’re in the money! The sky is sunny! Let’s mend it, spend it, send it rolling a--”
“Hey, what are those?” The Voice broke off. There was a small pile of toys outside the entrance to the gym.
Megavolt shrugged. “They look like a bunch of Quackerjack’s exploding pandas to me.”
“Wonder what they’re doing out here in the hallway?”
“Beats me. Move it, Fido.” He shooed at two of Quackerjack’s novelty teeth. They hopped aside, snapping a little in disappointment. “Hey Quackerjack, we got the cash!”
“Well, we’ve also got company,” said Quackerjack from the window. “What’s the number now?”
“Thirty-one,” said the bored redheaded duckling in the handcuffs next to him.
“Thanks. Thirty-one cop cars!” said the toy maker.
“Piece of cake.” Megavolt said dismissively.
“Yeah right. You’re forgetting Darkwing Duck,” said Gosalyn. “When he gets here you guys are gonna be in some serious trouble.”
The Voice looked at the girl warily and stepped behind Megavolt. She wasn’t about to have her shin kicked again.
“Hah! Darkwing Duck. I snort, chuckle and guffaw. Plus a little titter for emphasis.” Megavolt gave a mad giggle.
“Yeah!” said Quackerjack. “You think me, Megs and Fatty here can’t take him out?”
“Thanks, Quackerjack,” said The Voice, looking like she was going to punch him.
Just then there were a number of loud explosions in the hallway. Everyone—the three super villains, the teachers and the students—gave a jerk of surprise and looked towards the entrance where the sound had come from. The novelty teeth guarding it were hopping around in a particularly agitated fashion. “What was that?” exclaimed Quackerjack.
“Your exploding pandas. Something must have triggered them,” said The Voice.
“Oh, is that why you had them out there, for an alarm? Neat idea,” said Megavolt.
Quackerjack looked puzzled. “But—I didn’t…or at least I don’t think I did….”
“Wait a minute, guys, if something triggered them—“ The Voice began.
A cloud of purple smoke filled the entrance. “I am the Terror…that Flaps in the Night!” It was a loud, clear proclamation, but then a series of coughs ruined the impressive effect. “I am the (hack, wheeze) pesky tick you can’t (gasp) singe off—sputter, cough….” As the smoke dissipated a sooty Darkwing was revealed, doubled over coughing.
“Whoops…maybe I shouldn’t have left Quackerjack’s toys in the hallway….” muttered Gosalyn. She glanced over at Honker, who waved his hand at her and pointed to Tank. The older Muddlefoot boy nodded and stepped aside to show the open mouth of the air vent behind him. Gosalyn looked back at the three super villains, who were staring at Darkwing. “Well, I did say when we get a distraction…” she murmured to herself. Cheerfully shedding the handcuffs, she stole away to join Honker.
“I am…” Darkwing went on, then broke off again, coughing. “…sounding like an anti-smoking commercial.” He sneezed, brushed the soot off his costume and straightened. “But I am also…Darkwiiiiiing Duck!” He struck a pose. “Your mischievous misdeeds will never pan out, you nefarious ne’er-do-wells. I’m nullifying your noxious naughtiness!”
“Noxious naughtiness…?” said The Voice.
“Oh yeah? Well, take a bite out of this, Darkwing Chew-Toy! Attack!” Quackerjack yelled.
The novelty teeth near the entrance, temporarily stunned by the super hero’s sudden appearance, now hopped towards Darkwing. He just stood there and snapped his fingers. Suddenly a large bone sailed over his head and landed in the room between him and the teeth. They promptly started gnawing on the bone—and became stuck to it.
“Wow, DW! Coating that bone with super glue worked great,” said Launchpad as he joined Darkwing in the entrance.
“Yep yep yep…not a bad idea if I do say so myself,” agreed Darkwing.
Quackerjack was throwing a fit, jumping up and down and shaking his fists at the unfortunate teeth that were glued to the bone. “How many times do I have to tell you? No snacking between meals! Oooh!” He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.
The other teeth in the room all bounced over to attack the crime-fighting duo. “Ah ah ah,” said Darkwing, shaking his finger at them. “Naughty naughty, haven’t been brushing!” Seemingly from nowhere he pulled out a dentist’s drill. The other novelty teeth rapidly turned tail and began hopping the other way.
“Cowards! Wimps!” yelled Quackerjack after the retreating dental-wear, pulling at the tassels of his cap in frustration.
Megavolt poked the enraged toy maker’s shoulder. “Allow me.” He turned a feral grin on Darkwing as he charged up his gloves. “Prepare to feel the burn, hero!”
Darkwing had to duck fast to avoid the zap of electricity. Megavolt laughed maniacally as he aimed at Darkwing’s feet, making the superhero dance rapidly to avoid being hit. Darkwing didn’t appear concerned, though. Instead, he began freezing in elegant poses as the volts passed by on either side. Holding out his arms, he started to go into a pirouette.
Megavolt paused for a moment, blinking in puzzlement. “Huh? What is this, a rehearsal for “Duck Lake”? Oh well.” He shrugged, then leveled his blazing gloves once more on the hero. “Enjoy yourself, Dipwing! Because this is the last time I’m letting you dance around the issue!”
Launchpad, who was standing behind the twirling Darkwing, winced. “Whoa…bad pun there, Megavolt,” he said, shaking his head. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding getting zapped as Megavolt began releasing volt after volt towards Darkwing.
The spinning superhero, however, twirled out of the way of each volt and spun increasingly closer to his electrical nemesis. Megavolt noticed what was happening too late. “Uh oh….”
“ShpudwaHOING!!” cried Darkwing as he broke out of the pirouette and leapt towards Megavolt in a flying Double-Patented Web Kick. Megavolt cowered, foreseeing doom.
Suddenly, in midair, something grabbed Darkwing by the leg. He squawked in startled indignation as his flight was interrupted. “Hey!” he exclaimed, swinging ignominiously from The Voice’s grip. “What do you—hey! Hey, put me down!”
“No problem,” she said, letting go. Darkwing flailed for a frantic second before he fell and landed on his head, seeing stars.
“DW!” exclaimed Launchpad, running forward. Quackerjack, whistling innocently, stuck out his foot. The pilot tripped and went flying. He hit Darkwing with an “Oomph!”
“Ow! Launchpad!” said Darkwing, shaking his head to clear it as he pushed the sidekick away. “Can’t you even run without crashing?”
“Sosh…dorry, GW,” Launchpad slurred dizzily.
“Aw wook. Widdle duckies faw down, go boom.” Darkwing froze and lifted his face to see The Voice, who was grinning. As he looked, she, Megavolt and Quackerjack burst out laughing.
Darkwing gritted his teeth. Then he grinned as well. “So how’s it going…Quirk.”
The Voice froze.
“I mean, the whole super villain-thing. Seems like a pretty sweet career move to me. Considering what a loser you were before…Heron.”
Megavolt and Quackerjack’s laughter had trailed off as they noticed how silent The Voice had gotten. Her face had gone completely blank.
“Oh.” Darkwing put a hand to his bill in mock horror. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up your great failure.”
How does he know?!
“The anguish that ails you.”
That horrible moment.
“The dire degradation that dogs your days.”
After I tried, and I tried, and I tried….
Her fingers began to flex. A high keen was building in the back of her throat.
Quackerjack looked back and forth between Darkwing and The Voice, confused. “What’s happening?” he asked Megavolt. “What’s up with her?”
Megavolt just stared at The Voice. “I think…I think she’s having a…flashback.”
Quackerjack gasped in disbelieving horror. “A flashback? Oh no, not that!” Whether you were a super villain or a super hero, few things posed a greater threat to your very being than--
“Yes!” exclaimed Darkwing. “A flashback!”
Sorting through the mail in breathless anticipation. The business envelope with the address and the official type. “Ms. Heron Quirk, we regret to inform you—“
A sudden inhuman howl burst from her throat with the force of a Pacific gale. Everyone put their hands over their non-existent ears as bulbs burst, windows shattered, and shards of glass flew through the room. Outside, the blood of police and basically anyone else within hearing range turned to ice at the enormity of the sound. Inside, Megavolt was the first to come to his senses. He jumped for The Voice and slapped a gloved hand over her beak. The terrible shriek choked off in her throat. Her pupils were completely dilated, black holes of anguish.
“What?!” said Megavolt, taking his hand away from her beak. “What?! What happened that was so terrible?!”
The Voice didn’t answer. She appeared to be in shock.
“The college she wanted rejected her,” said Darkwing.
There was a pause.
“That is the most under-whelming origin story I’ve ever heard in my life,” said Quackerjack flatly.
Darkwing glared at him. “Scoff if you like, Quackerjack, but it matters plenty to our friend Heron here.”
“That’s all? That’s what the big bad flashback was about? She’s upset because some college turned her down?”
“And not just any college. The University of St. Canard. Re-jected.” Darkwing examined his nails casually.
“But that’s stupid. That’s not really what you’re so upset about, is it?” Quackerjack asked, turning to The Voice.
She was just staring straight ahead of her, unseeing. “It’s not fair. I shaped up. I pulled my grades together. Community involvement. Extra credit. 3.4 GPA. It’s not fair.”
Megavolt grabbed her shoulder. “Heron…uh, I mean Voice. Snap out of it. Quackerjack’s right. It’s not that big a deal. So you didn’t get into the college you wanted. Look at what you did get. Want money? You can go ahead and take it. Innocent bystanders run from you in fear. And there are tons of people who haven’t gone college. I didn’t.” He laughed nervously.
“Yeah, me either!” an excited Quackerjack joined in. “And look how I turned out! Huh? Huh?”
The Voice’s eyes slowly refocused. She stared: first at the goofy-looking duck in the clown suit with the banana-headed companion; and then at her roommate—the rat/dog/weasel-creature in the yellow rubber jumpsuit who talked to light bulbs.
The Voice promptly began bawling her head off.
Quackerjack blinked. “Oh well. I did my best,” he said, shrugging. Then he turned to Darkwing. “Hey, you may have reduced our pal The Voice here to a puddle of traumatized, psychologically distraught goo, but we still have hostages!”
Darkwing rolled his eyes. “Take a look around you, Quacky. I’d say you’re about all hostaged-out.”
Quackerjack and Megavolt looked around in a panic, suddenly realizing that they, an emotional Voice (who was sitting on the floor now) and the two crime fighters were the only ones left in the gym. During the battle, Gosalyn, Honker and Tank had already evacuated teachers, students, janitors et al via the ventilation system.
“D’oh!” said Megavolt.
“Oh man…we’re sitting ducks!” groaned Quackerjack. He looked at Megavolt and The Voice, who definitely weren’t ducks, and corrected himself: “Well, sorta.”
“The irony is delicious, isn’t it?” commented Darkwing smugly.
Suddenly Megavolt scowled. He stepped in front of Darkwing. The hero backed up as he noticed the electricity charging along Megavolt’s gloves. Instead, the villain surprised everyone by planting his hands on his hips. “Ooooooh! Darkwing Duck, you, you--That was a really mean thing to do!”
“Wha’?” Darkwing blinked.
“Don’t you give me that! You know exactly what I mean!” Megavolt pointed at the sobbing Voice. “Picking on somebody like that. And you call yourself a hero. You Quisling!”
“Huh?” Darkwing was looking a bit uncomfortable. As Megavolt stepped forward, he stepped back.
“Without exception the most disgusting display of perverse sadistic psychological torment—“ Megavolt was ranting.
Darkwing put up his hands. “Hey hey hey, wait a minute—“
“Yeah!” exclaimed Quackerjack. “Ya big bully, you!” He stuck out his tongue.
“You don’t even realize, do you? If anyone could fully understand what you’ve just done, it should be Drake the Dweeb,” finished Megavolt.
The hero stared at him, shocked at Megavolt’s use of Drake Mallard’s old nickname. Then the lower half of Darkwing’s bill began to tremble a little as he remembered images of cruelty from the past.
Having his beak tweaked.
Being tripped in the hallway.
Guys bullying him with impunity. Contemptuous girls making fun of him.
“When I grow up I’m gonna protect people and fight bad guys. I’m gonna be a super hero!”
“Hah! You mean super dweeb!”
Sudden shame filled his being. “I’m sorry,” he said to Megavolt.
“Why don’t you tell her that?” the villain sniffed darkly, pointing to The Voice.
“WAAAH-HAAA, HAAA, HAAA….WAAAAAA—“ she was sitting on the floor, wailing.
Darkwing gulped. He looked at Megavolt, who was glaring, at Quackerjack, who was making faces at him, and at Launchpad, who shrugged, appearing almost as embarrassed by the whole situation as Darkwing was. Darkwing took in a deep breath, let it out again and walked over to The Voice. He fumbled in the pocket of his costume for a Kleenex and held it down to her. “Here.”
The Voice’s heart (and ear) –rending sounds gradually broke off. Sniffling, she accepted the Kleenex. “Thank you,” she said, the words somewhat muffled.
“Look, I’m sorry. And, uh—“ He looked over his shoulder at Megavolt.
“And I’ll try to make it up to you,” prompted an impatient Megavolt.
Darkwing turned back to The Voice. “We’ll see if we can’t work something out,” he said awkwardly. “Maybe, if you come willingly, I’ll see if I can talk to the police. Try and get you a life sentence. Er, I mean light sentence….” He laughed nervously, searching for something else to say. “There there.”
“Well…I guess there is something….” The Voice said in a dubious way. “But—I, um—“ She looked over awkwardly in the direction of Megavolt and Quackerjack. Quackerjack started whistling and Megavolt looked up as if he had just noticed something interesting on the gymnasium ceiling.
Darkwing, seeing how embarrassed she looked, beckoned for Launchpad to join him. “Yes? There is something?”
“Well…” she said, “um…I’m not sure I wanna say….” she trailed off in a small voice. The hero and his sidekick leaned in closer, trying to hear her. The Voice conked their heads together.
They crumpled to the floor.
Pushing the unconscious Darkwing and Launchpad aside, The Voice stood up and dusted herself off. “Heh. Guess the old saying’s true. Two heads are better than one.”
Quackerjack let out a war-whoop. “Alright! Heron Quirk, Voice, whatever your name is, you are the coolest!”
“And that’s the truth, Ruth!” exclaimed Mister Banana Brain.
“Well, it doesn’t look like they’re gonna bother us for a while,” The Voice said, glancing down at the two ducks. “But we’re still surrounded by thirty-one cop cars.”
“Thirty-three,” Megavolt corrected her, looking out the window. He looked over at Quackerjack in sudden realization. “Hey, that beats our record!”
“Duh. Ya think?” said the toy maker, shaking his head.
Megavolt looked thoughtful. “We’ve got to find a way out of here that doesn’t involve going outside.”
“Oh man, I wish I’d brought Bobo the Clown with me,” said Quackerjack, rubbing his hands together. “Then we could explode our way out! It’d be fun!”
The Voice looked at him skeptically. “Uh, yeah. Fun. Right.” She looked around the gym and sighed. “Man. This sucks. I don’t know why I’m here. I hate this room. I always hated it ‘cause I could never do the exercises the gym teacher had us do. In fact, I hate this whole school. Can you believe it? Six years. Six whole years, and when I finished elementary school I swore to myself that I’d never come back. And now look. I’m a super villain, surrounded by half the St. Canard Police Force, trapped in the school I hate.” She shook her head. “I’ve died and gone to Purgatory.”
“Yeah. This school sucks,” agreed Megavolt.
Suddenly The Voice frowned. “Wait a minute. Hey, wait a minute! This school sucks!”
“Well, I’ll agree that I don’t really wanna be in it anymore—” Quackerjack began.
“No. I mean, this school really sucks. Megavolt, do you remember what it was like when you used to go here? You know? The plumbing system was really messed up? And like, for me, when I was here, we were always getting a day off because the boiler was broken or something?”
Megavolt reached under his plug helmet and scratched his head. “Yeah, that happened to us too. So?”
“In fact I was down in the boiler room one time,” The Voice said rapidly. “In the basement. It was recess and I was hiding from Danny Kohen behind the boiler. And I think there was a manhole cover down there. Maybe, if we go down there, we can hop down into the sewer or something and get out of here that way!”
“Hey, that could work!” said Quackerjack. He glanced at Darkwing. “But we’d better do it fast. Sleeping Beauty over there may be waking up soon.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Not to mention the police should be barging in here any minute now,” said Megavolt.
The Voice nodded. “Come on, follow me. I think I remember a door to the basement near here.”
They headed out of the gym. As they did, Megavolt heaved a sigh. “Sewers. Disgusting. Wet. Sewers.” He shuddered. “This is not going to be fun.”
A few minutes after they had left, Launchpad began to stir. He sat up slowly, groaning and rubbing his head. “Ow…man, I feel like someone dropped a house on me, DW. Uh, DW?” He glanced down at his friend. “DW!”
“Stop yelling, Launchpad, my head hurts,” complained Darkwing as he returned to consciousness. “Owww…my head….” he said, sitting up.
“Do you remember what happened? It was all so fast, I didn’t even know what hit me.”
Darkwing scowled as he rubbed his head. He could feel a lump forming there. “Oh, I remember alright. The Voice. That’s the last time I ever pay attention to the psychological neediness of a super villain, LP. Man, she laid it on worse than Reginald Bushroot.”
“Well, she’s called “The Voice” for a reason.”
“Heck of a super power!” mocked Darkwing. “The ability to whine your enemy into submission.” He shook his head. “And I fell for it.”
“Well, it could be worse,” said Launchpad.
Darkwing folded his arms across his chest and glared at his sidekick. “How? How, Launchpad? I ask you, how could it possibly be worse?”
“FREEZE, POLICE!! DON’T MOVE!!” A number of cops burst into the room just then and trained their guns on the two ducks. The one in the middle was the last to lower his weapon. “Well well well, if it isn’t our favorite vigilante, Darkwing Duck. So how did you screw up this time.”
Darkwing had lain back on the ground again and covered his face with his hat. “Let me guess. It’s the bane of my existence, Officer Mel,” his voice came from under the hat, slightly muffled.
“Having a little slumber party, duck? Oh man, the chief is gonna laugh his head off when he hears about this.”
There were voices in the hallway. A number of reporters entered the room. As cameras began to flash, Darkwing sighed and pulled the hat down tighter across his face.
“Hey look, Dad, they got your good side!” said Gosalyn, pointing at the TV screen that evening.
“Heylookdadtheygotyourgoodside,” Drake mimicked her irritably. He hunched back against the couch and glared at the screen. “I hate the news.”
“Funny,” remarked Gosalyn, “seeing as you’re always talking about how if I’d just watch the news I’d learn something.”
“I don’t want you to learn that your father is a complete goofball,” said Drake.
Gosalyn smiled up at him. “Aw, Dad, I didn’t learn that from the news. I knew that already.”
“—refuses to make any comment aside from the fact that he fought the three super villains but was unable to successfully apprehend them. They were Quackerjack, Megavolt and that new voice in the world of villainy: The Voice.”
“Ooh, that’s really clever, Tom!” said Drake to the TV. He rolled his eyes.
Lockjaw went on, “The Voice may have been identified today as Heron Quirk, a dissatisfied 18-year-old who disappeared some months ago and who may have turned to a life of crime following her rejection by the University of St. Canard.”
Suddenly a number of children appeared in the box over the reporter’s right shoulder. “Hey, there I am!” exclaimed Gosalyn.
The Gosalyn on the screen was standing between Honker and Tank. Her eyes were crossed, her tongue was sticking out and she had one arm around Honker and was using the other one to do bunny ears over Tank’s head. “As for the hostages, none of the children or the teachers were harmed, thanks to the heroism of the young lady you see before you—Gosalyn Mallard. This feisty 9-year-old, with the help of her two friends Honker and Tankard Muddlefoot, successfully found a way out of the building through St. Canard Elementary’s ventilation system.”
There was a close-up and Gosalyn’s head filled the screen as she spoke into a mike. “I wasn’t scared. I was just mad ‘cause they interrupted my thing I was reading for the assembly. We couldn’t’ve gotten everyone out if it hadn’t been for Darkwing Duck. When he started fighting those creeps it gave all of us the chance to get away.” She waved at the screen. “Thanks, Darkwing!”
In the room, Drake ruffled Gosalyn’s hair affectionately. She pulled away but giggled.
Lockjaw reappeared on the screen, nodding sagely. “A brave and…modest child. In the world of sports today fans were stunned when—“
Drake switched off the TV with the remote. “Yep yep yep. We make an amazing team, kiddo.”
“Aw….” Launchpad stood in the door to the kitchen with a large bowl in his hands. “What about me?”
“You make good popcorn, Launchpad,” said Gosalyn.
“Heh heh.” The pilot looked pleased as he came over and set the bowl on the coffee table in front of them. “Bon appetite, guys.”
“Kean gear!” Gosalyn dug her hand into the popcorn enthusiastically. “So ha dih yo day go, Da?” she asked around a mouthful.
“Eh…I’ve had better. But seeing my heroic daughter on the news made up for a lot.” Drake smiled at her fondly. “How about you? Would you say you had a pretty good day today, sweetie?”
“Werr, Dah….” Gosalyn munched thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Well, Dad, being a hostage wasn’t too much fun. But being on TV was pretty cool. But I still never got to read my whole “Vengeance of the Blood-Sucking Mutated Zoooooombie Slugs From the Planet Ferbilax” paper.” She sighed.
“Aw, that’s too bad, Gos. You wanna read it now?”
Gosalyn lifted her head abruptly. “Really?” Suddenly she looked suspicious. “You’d better promise not to laugh.”
Drake looked puzzled. “Well…I suppose I…promise?”
“Ok. Hold on a second, I’ve got a copy in my room!” She jumped off the couch and ran out.
Drake listened to her footsteps thudding up the stairs and looked over at Launchpad. “LP, I’m starting to wonder what I just agreed to.”
Launchpad chuckled.
“Ok!” A breathless Gosalyn appeared in the hall entrance. She leaned against the doorframe for a moment, looking down at the paper in her hand, then abruptly looked up. “First…there is darkness,” she began, her eyes intense, her voice dramatic. “Then…through the darkness we hear an ominous crunching sound. It’s the giant zoooooombie slug, devouring all in its path! People scream! Cars are demolished! Whole buildings are enveloped in the vile space slime! It’s the “Vengeance of the Blood-Sucking Mutated Zoooooombie Slugs From the Planet Ferbilax!””
Drake made an odd muffled sound. His bill was clenched shut, but one corner twitched suspiciously. With a look of painstaking seriousness on his face he leaned forward on the arm of the couch to listen.
“That…was an unpleasant experience,” said The Voice, a grossed-out look on her face.
“My count is seventeen. Seventeen times I shorted out down there,” remarked a sooty Megavolt.
Quackerjack looked down at his clothes. “This was my best outfit!” he whined. “Pure silk! Ruined!”
They were trudging up the Audobon Lighthouse steps, filthy and fatigued. After a long afternoon lost in the St. Canard sewer system, the climb seemed to be taking forever. “At least we’re finally out of there,” said The Voice. “Four hours…I didn’t think finding the main sewer-way to the bay would be so hard.”
“It would have been faster if we’d had Licky along. He knows the sewers like the back of his hand,” said Quackerjack.
Megavolt shuddered. “Please no. Having The Liquidator along is the only thing that could have made that whole trip worse. He’s always splashing me.”
They all sighed in relief as they reached the top of the winding staircase. “Whew!” said Quackerjack. “We made it!” He did a couple cartwheels across the room.
The exhausted Voice’s beak fell open. Megavolt reached over and closed it. “It’s Quackerjack.
He’s got quick recovery time.”
“Oh, you guys are such a bunch of party poopers,” said Quackerjack. “Today was great! We wreaked havoc, we beat Darkwing and we got a whole lot of money. What’s not to like? Hey, let’s divvy it up right now.”
“Sure,” said The Voice, sounding a little more cheerful herself at the prospect. “Megs?”
Megavolt looked at her. “What?”
“Let’s divide up our shares.”
He blinked. “I don’t have the money.”
“But you—you were the one carrying the bag.”
Megavolt shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I thought you were.”
“Well, I was before we left the school. Then when we went in the sewers and you trying to stay in the dry areas, I figured….”
“Oh yeah. But it was a little heavy so I gave it to Quackerjack.”
They both turned to the toy maker.
Quackerjack looked uncomfortable. “Um…I think I set it down a minute, and….”
“What?!”
“Where?!”
“Um…where that street with the pizza smell met that street with the Chinese food?” He looked puzzled. “Or maybe where that corner was with the basketball court—“
“Quackerjack! Those could be half the street corners in St. Canard,” exclaimed The Voice.
“You lost our loot!” yelled Megavolt.
“Hey, I didn’t lose the loot, she lost the loot!” Quackerjack said, pointing to The Voice.
“Me?!”
He put his hands on his hips. “Well yeah, Hercules, if you hadn’t given it to Wimp-Boy here—“
“Hey!” Megavolt looked insulted. “You’re more of a Wimp-Boy than me!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am—“
“HEY!!” Quackerjack and Megavolt both jumped as The Voice interrupted them. “Stop. Look. Listen. Not all of the money is gone, ok? It didn’t all fit in the bag, so I put some in my pocket. Let’s just share that, alright?” She put her hand into the enormous pocket of her tan trench coat and began to grope around. Megavolt and Quackerjack both stood in front of her. Painstakingly The Voice counted the cash out into her hand. “Five…ten…twenty…twenty-five…thirty-five…forty…sixty. That’s…twenty each.” She looked up, a little embarrassed. “Um, I think some may have fallen out at some point.”
For a moment no one spoke.
“Whoo-hoo! Twenty bucks! I’m rich! I’m rich!” Quackerjack grabbed his cash and started dancing around the room.
Megavolt shrugged in response to the expression on The Voice’s face. “Again, it’s Quackerjack.” He glanced at the money in her hands. Megavolt had his suspicions regarding this purported extra loot. He didn’t remember there being too much money to go in the bag. He had the feeling The Voice was just pretending this was loot money for the purpose of shutting Quackerjack up. “Uh, you keep the rest. I got to rescue some light bulbs today. That’s enough for me.” The Voice gave him a grateful look.
Quackerjack picked up The Voice’s rubber ball, which was lying on the floor. He tossed it up and down. “Hey Voice, that was a real hoot the way you took out Darkwing earlier. I swear, you even had me believing you were having some kind of major emotional crisis.”
“Heh heh, yeah. Pretty convincing, huh?” laughed The Voice as she sank into her red beanbag. She turned her head to find Megavolt’s eyes on her. “What?”
He dropped into a squatting position next to her. “You weren’t completely acting, were you,” he said, quietly so that Quackerjack woudn't hear.
She glanced over at Quackerjack, who was bouncing the ball maniacally at the bull’s eye she’d made earlier, then back at Megavolt. “Not at first,” The Voice admitted after a couple seconds. She gave him a sort of pathetic half-smile.
“Hmm.” He rocked back and forth on his heels briefly before standing up again. “Voice. Come.” The Voice got up, puzzled. She followed Megavolt as he headed for the control room. He opened the door and motioned for her to go in.
Quackerjack stared after them as the door shut behind them. Then he looked at Mister Banana Brain, who he’d seated in the corner. “Meg-a-volt and Voi-oice, they’re get-ting mu-shy!” he sang, giggling.
Inside the control room, Megavolt motioned for The Voice to sit on his couch. As she did, he sat down beside her. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Oh.” The Voice looked down at her feet. “Well, it’s just…I really tried, you know? I wasn’t a dumb kid. I mean, it’s not like I was a genius or anything. Sucked at math and science.” She laughed weakly. “All the subjects you loved. But I had an above average reading level. And I never did anything bad. I was just never as good as Josh was. At anything.”
“Josh?” Megavolt asked.
“Joshua. My brother. Six years older than me, and perfect at everything.” She stared ahead of her glumly. “A degree in engineering, a nice house, his own home business…you’d like him, he’s a mechanic. Fixes cars. Loves anything with an engine.”
“Cool,” said Megavolt.
“Yeah. He’s been looking out for me. You know. Ever since I told him I got rejected. I kinda lied to my parents—I said SCU accepted me. But I told Josh.” She sighed. “He was really upset. He’s always been telling me to get my act together, and this…this really disappointed him. But he lent me some cash. Said he’d cover for me with Mom and Dad. Tell them I was doing well in school and eating right and making friends. Doing something with my life.”
Megavolt looked at her. “Well…you know….All that stuff I said before? It’s still true. You’ve got a reputation, you’ve got access to money. You’ve escaped from Darkwing Duck multiple times. You’ve got incredible super powers. I dunno—sounds like you’re doing something with your life to me.”
“Yeah. Sure.” The Voice didn’t sound as enthusiastic as he might have hoped, but for just a few seconds she looked thoughtful. Then abruptly she changed the subject. “So what was that thing you called Darkwing back there? It seemed to shut him up pretty fast.”
Megavolt shrugged. “Oh, just his old nickname from high school.”
The Voice was startled. “You went to high school with Darkwing Duck? Do you know who he really is?”
“Well, kinda.”
“Kinda?”
Megavolt looked sheepish. “I’ve forgotten it.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. It was odd, that Megavolt could remember a nickname and not a person. His memory was very erratic when it came to the sort of things he remembered or forgot. The Voice decided to try asking him something. “So what was your real name?”
He hesitated. Then: “Elmo. Sputterspark.”
The Voice didn’t laugh. She didn’t even look like she thought his name was funny. Instead, she held out her hand. “Hi, Elmo.”
He reached over and took it. “Hi, Heron.” They shook hands.
Just then the two of them heard an annoying voice singing outside the door, “Meg-a-volt and Voi-oice, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—“
“Huh?” said Megavolt.
The Voice looked puzzled. “What?”
On the other side of the door, Quackerjack snorted. “Oh, go back to your smooching in there! Kissy kissy!”
Inside the control room, as realization dawned on them, Megavolt was horrified. “Hey! Whaddya think’s going on in here? The Voice is just my roommate! We’re not together!”
“Yeah, no kidding. You’re probably old enough to be my father,” said The Voice, looking a little shocked at the thought.
Megavolt glared at her. “Will you knock it off already? I’m not that old!”
“Oh really? When you were in high school, did you wear bell-bottoms?”
“I never did that! Everyone else did, but I never—“ he broke off as he saw her nodding and realized he’d fallen right into her trap. “Oh. Oh, that’s it. You’re going down!” He started to charge up his gloves. The Voice opened her beak, preparing to launch a vocal attack.
Just then they heard Quackerjack again. “Ooh-hoo-hoo, listen to that, Mister Banana Brain. Sounds like those two are having a lovers’ quarrel in there. Meeeeee-ow!” Megavolt and The Voice both blinked and turned to stare at the door incredulously. They could hear Quackerjack laughing.
The Voice turned to look at Megavolt in disbelief. “What are we doing? Look, we know who the real enemy is, right?”
“Right,” he agreed.
Slowly a look of terrific cunning crossed The Voice’s face. “Um. Megs. You wanna—?”
Megavolt gave a sly smile. “Yeah, why not?”
The Voice winked. “You hold, I’ll kick?”
“Nuh-uh. You hold him, *I* kick him.”
“How ‘bout we flip for it?” asked The Voice.
“Sure.” They shook hands again and got up, advancing with diabolical intent on the door behind which the unsuspecting clown was still laughing.
Quackerjack wasn’t going to know what hit him.
Early the next morning, in a pleasant rural setting many many miles west of St. Canard….
The car pulled to a stop, the engine still running. “Why don’t you drive all the way up?”
“Are you crazy? I don’t want them to know I’m here! This is going to be a simple operation—in and out.” Joshua ran his fingers along the top of his head nervously.
Roger laughed. “Josh, you sound like some guy in an action hero movie.”
The large muscular canine, who was just getting out of the car, paused and looked at him. “Roger…you know, you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to.”
He shook his head. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We do everything together, remember? And if it involves making an hour and a half drive both ways every morning for the rest of our lives….”
Joshua groaned. “Ugh. Please, enough already. I don’t even wanna think about it. Stay in the car—I’ll be right back.” Looking around cautiously, he started towards the gray house on top of the hill.
Roger grinned and yelled after him, “Ever hear that old saying about honesty being the best policy?”
Joshua yelped and whirled around. “Roger, for goodness’ sake! Keep it down!”
Roger chuckled softly to himself as he watched Joshua rapidly walk up the hill. “Guess not.” He leaned forward and turned on the radio. An Oldies station. The gangly redheaded canine smiled as he recognized the song. He began idly tapping his fingers, keeping time on the dashboard. “‘We’re in the money, we’re in the money…’”
It was still very early morning, and the sky was that soft pearly gray that generally attends the first hours of the day. A bird started twittering in a nearby tree. Blades of grass sparkled with dew. Roger, still singing, watched as his boyfriend reached the front door to the house. Joshua looked around briefly, then bent and picked something up. As soon as he had it, he turned and started running pell-mell down the hill. Roger shook his head in amusement. “‘We're in the money, the sky is sunny—Old Man Depression you are through, you done us wrong!’”
Joshua, panting, tossed the newspaper into Roger’s lap. “Alright, we’re out of here!” He hopped in, shut the door and hastily put the car in Drive.
Roger was chuckling as he opened up the paper. On the front page of The St. Canard Times was a black and white photo of a disheveled-looking, bespectacled avian teenager with the caption, ‘The Face Behind The Voice: A high school yearbook picture of Heron Quirk, age 18.’ “This is a terrible picture of your sister,” said Roger.
Joshua, who was concentrating on driving, nodded vaguely. “Mm.”
“So tell me, Josh—you really going to drive three hours every morning and steal your parents’ newspaper so they don’t find out the truth about Heron?”
“That’s the plan,” said Joshua, keeping his eye on the road.
Roger laughed again. “Oh man. I love you, Joshua Quirk. You are such a closet-case.” He settled back contentedly in the passenger’s seat and started singing again. “‘…the money, we’re in the money, we’ve got a lot of what it takes to get along! We’re in the money, come on, my honey, let's lend it, spend it, send it rolling along!’”
