1997
Liz had grown accustomed to the house being empty now and then. It was difficult to get Quackerjack to sit still for more than 5 minutes (unless of course he had a new toy to play with), and it was almost as difficult to keep him indoors most of the time. He liked going out.
Sometimes he'd leave for an hour or more, only to come back loaded down with new toys. Liz never asked where he got them from, though she had her hunches considering he had no cash of his own and no money ever came up missing from her account.
She was used to it, so it was no big shock when she woke up Saturday morning to find Quackys side of the bed empty. Yawning slightly, she slid from the bed, wrapping her robe around her as she headed from the room and down the hall. The rest of the house was as empty as the bed had been.
The TV was on, and Saturday morning cartoons were playing. A half eaten bowl of fruit loops sat in the middle of the floor in front of the Television. Liz shook her head, mumbling something about living with a child, and retrieved the bowl, taking it to the kitchen to be washed.
Pouring her own bowl of cereal, she returned to the living room and sank onto the couch. She had just taken a heaping spoonful of frosted flakes, when the phone rang. "Aww' hell," Swallowing quickly, she reached over and picked up the reciever, "Hel.. ahem.. Hello?"
"Channel 12," It was Amy.
Liz groaned. Now, whenever someone called her, especially on her days off, and told her to check out something on the TV, it was never a good thing. Hesitantly, she picked up the remote and flipped the channel, not sure she really wanted to know what she was looking for.
It was a news report. That wasn't a good sign either.
"...standing in front of Games R Us, " A male reporter in a bad toupee was saying. "Where they're celebrating the anniversary of the release of the ever popular Whiffle Boy video game."
"Oh holy crap!" Cereal went everywhere as Liz jumped from the couch.
"Hes not home is he?" Amy asked from the other end of the phone.
"No... he was gone when I woke up."
"We'll be here until noon," The reporter continued. "Whiffle Boy himself is here," The camera shifted to a man in a Whiffle Boy costume, being mobbed by a group of kids, "signing autographs for the kids. And we have popcorn and refresments. Back to you, Miran-" Liz shut the TV off.
"You'd better get down there before he does something stupid."
"I'm going," Liz replied. "Let me get dressed. Hopefully no one will be hurt before I can get there." She hung up and hurried down the hall.
Ten minutes later, she was in her car, headed for downtown St. Canard. She was fuming. She knew Quackerjack would never pass up any opportunity to get back at Whiffle Boy. And she also knew how much of a beating he was going to get from her if he did do something stupid. Which he most likely would.
Muttering curses under her breath, she pulled her car up to the curb half a block away from Games R Us, and cut the engine. "Of all the stupid... lousy..." She was still muttering as she stepped from the car. "And on my DAY OFF too!" A couple passing by stopped to gawk at her as she shouted. Liz glared. "What are YOU lookin' at?!"
The couple shook their heads and hurried away. Liz watched them go, before turning and stalking down the street toward the game shop. A small crowd was gathered outside, mostly kids, waiting to have their pictures taken with Whiffle Boy. There was no sign of Quackerjack anywhere. Liz wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Making her way through the crowd, she entered the shop, her eyes darting around in search of the missing jester. So far so good. Stepping aside to let a group of kids pass, she leaned against the wall near the door, and waited.
She didn't have to wait very long, for no sooner had she leaned back, when screams from the back of the shop caught her ears. "Ah...there we go," Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she pushed herself off the wall, and made her way through the rapidly dispersing crowd. Several large sets of novelty teeth darted past her, followed by a group of toy soldiers with guns, chasing the patrons from the shop.
"Ladies and gentlemen," An unmistakable voice came over the shops PA system. "Its Plaaaaaaaaaaytime!" Quackerjack lept onto the counter, tossing off the trenchcoat and brown hat he had previously been wearing over his clothes.
Liz opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as cloud of blue smoke went up in a corner of the shop.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night,"
Liz stepped back. Things just got interesting.
"I am the video game level you cannot beat. I am..." The smoked cleared and Darkwing flipped across the floor, pulling his gas gun in the process. "DARKWIIIIIIIIIING DUCK!"
"Oooooh! Phooey!" Quackerjack pouted, tugging on the bells of his hat in frustration, "You always have to ruin my fun!"
"Its what I do," Darkwing smirked. "So, terrorizing tiny tots, are you, you twisted toy maker?"
"Oh you know me," It was Quackerjacks turn to smirk. "I never miss an opportunity for revenge."
Darkwing fired his gun, but Quackerjack had been expecting it, and he back flipped out of the way behind the counter as a net hit the spot where he had just been standing. Pulling something from inside his costume, the jester flipped back over the counter. It was a jump rope, which he quickly hurled across the room. Darkwing ducked as the rope flew over his head, straight for the man in the Whiffle Boy suit.
"My turn," Liz stepped infront of the man, catching the end of the rope and twisting it around her hand. Quackerjack gasped, unable to believe what he was seeing. There was his own girlfriend... defending Whiffle Boy. The two of them stared at each other across the room.
Lowering his gas gun, Darkwing stepped aside, his eyes darting back and forth between Liz and Quackerjack. "Shouldn't you do something?" The shop owner poked his head around the end of the counter, addressing the masked mallard.
"Whaaaaaat?" Darkwing scoffed, "Jump into a lovers quarrel? You have to be kidding me."
"Liz!" Quackerjack blinked, "What... what are you DOING?!"
"Stopping you before you hurt someone," The girl replied.
"But... but... Its Whiffle Boy!"
"Do I look like I care?" She tugged her end of the rope, jerking it out of his hands. "You are in SO much trouble. Call off your toys!"
He hesitated, eyes glancing back and forth between Liz, who was rolling the jump rope up, all the while glaring at him like she'd kill him at any moment, and Darkwing, who was leaning against the wall eating a bag of popcorn. "No," The jester said at last. "I don't wanna! You can't make me." He paused and pointed at Darkwing, "And neither can you!"
Darkwings gaze moved from Quackerjack to Liz. The latters eyes flashed, and the masked mallard pushed himself away from the wall, slowly moving over to duck behind the counter along with the shops owner. Several years of dating Morgana had taught him at least ONE thing about women, you don't tell them no.
Liz glared, "Call them off. NOW!"
Quackerjack suddenly realized his mistake. "Uh oh," He swallowed nervously, glancing around for some sort of escape. He jumped, intent on flipping back over the counter, but Liz was faster. The jump rope in her hands flew across the shop, wrapping itself around the clowns foot. She tugged, and he stumbled, landing in the floor with a thud. Stars exploded behind his eyes. "Ow..."
"Niiiiice move," Darkwing stood up, moving around the edge of the counter. A siren outside caught his attention. The police had arrived.
Quackerjack scrambled to get up, but Liz pounced him, grabbing him by the front of his clothes. Leaning in so that her face was inches from his, she hissed through clenched teeth, "I said, call them off!"
The jester blinked rapidly, as fear, real fear swept over him. She was serious. He'd never seen her so pissed off before, and that look in her eyes, the look of someone whos about to do grevious bodily harm to another, reminded him of Negaduck. He nodded frantically, reaching into a pocket of his outfit and producing a whistle, which he then blew loudly.
The novelty teeth and toy soldiers, which had previously been chasing people around the shop, stopped, and returned to where their creator sat in the floor. Releasing Quackerjacks clothes, Liz stood up and brushed herself off as two officers rushed into the shop and hauled Quackerjack to his feet, one of them slapping a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.
As they left, Darkwing appeared next to Liz, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He didn't actually hurt anyone this time," He told her. "He'll be out by tomorrow night."
"I know," She sighed, watching the police car pull away. "Sooner, actually... depending on how steep bail is." She winked at the man beside her as she gathered up Quackerjacks toys. Standing up, she grabbed something off the wall closest to her and took it up to the counter, before heading out of the shop.
Darkwing watched her go. He still didn't understand what she saw in Quackerjack, but it pleased him to know that someone had some semblance of control over the clowns behavior. He smirked to himself, "Well... now we know who wears the pants in that relationship."
Lizs car pulled up to the St. Canard County Jail and she cut the engine. Stepping through the double doors into the lobby, she made her way to the desk on the other side. "That oughta be enough," She laid some money on the desk. "Quackerjacks bail."
The officer at the desk blinked, before reaching over to take the money. After counting it, he nodded, and stood up, disappearing into the back of the building. A moment later he appeared back in the lobby with Quackerjack behind him. The jester grinned when he saw Liz. She shook her head and turned, walking out of the police station. He blinked, before hurrying after her.
"Thanks...," He mumbled, as they walked down the sidewalk to her car.
"Here," She pulled something from her pocket and handed it to him. It was a plastic Whiffle Boy action figure. Quackerjack gaped at the doll in his hands and opened his mouth to curse her for buying it, but he stopped as she pulled out a lighter and offered it to him. He grinned, taking the lighter from her, and holding its flame to the foot of the action figure. Plastic dripped onto the pavement at his feet.
They watched as the doll was slowly reduced to a pile of bubbling goo, and Quackerjack glanced at the girl beside him. "I love you!" He cried gleefully, wrapping his arms around her.
"I love you, too," Liz replied. She turned and headed toward the car. "But you're STILL in trouble."
-Finis-