He is the terror that flaps in the night,

He is the terror that flaps in the night,

He is the writer's block that prevents me from doing my homework

He is... DARKWING DUCK!

A Dramatic Entrance

by Jill Weber

(Disclaimer: All characters are owned by the Disney Corporation and used without permission.)

Somebody had hit the regular alarm in an attempt to set off the silent alarm and the clamor wasn't calming the robber's nerves any.

"C'mon, C'mon! C'mon!! C'MON!!" The canine robber was tapping his foot against the bank's marble floor and jabbing the petite feline teller in the ribs with his shotgun. "I ain't got all day, movit!"

The bank teller tried to "movit," but only succeeded in dropping the wad of twenties on the ground.

"Gah! The cops'll be here any minnit, or worse..."

There was a distinct "*FWHMPT*!" directly behind the robber.

"Awrk!" exclaimed the robber, whipping around.

A cloud of blue smoke billowed across the bank. From inside the cloud, an eerie voice spoke: "I am the terror that flaps in the night!"

The robber emptied both barrels of the shotgun into the cloud. Darkwing, flat on his stomach on the floor (hey, he's not stupid!), watched the shots go overhead and continued: "I am the substantial penalty for early withdrawal!"

Darkwing calculated how long it would take the robber to reload as he stood up, adjusted his broadrimmed, purple hat at a jaunty angle and arranged his black cape into a dramatic pose. As the smoke cleared, the daring duck of mystery stood, steely blue eyes narrowed behind his purple mask. "I am (*dramatic pause*) DARKWING DUCK!"

The robber feverishly stuffed shells into the shotgun, snapped the barrels shut, whipped it up and walked chin first into Darkwing's patented double flip web kick.

Minutes later, newshounds were taking pictures of Darkwing standing with his foot on the robber's head like a big game hunter with a prize trophy.

"Sorry," Darkwing said 'modestly'. "No time for interviews, I have crimes to foil, criminals to apprehend... Remember, that's Darkwing Duck, two words, not three and both 'D's' capitalized." He paused for a moment to let the photographers take some last pictures, then said: "Let's get dangerous!"

He darted away from the awestruck crowd, dashed through a conveniently located side entrance and... tripped over his cape. "I hope nobody saw that," he muttered from under the brim of his hat.

"Don't worry, there's nobody here but Launchpad an' me," an overly familiar girlish voice rasped at him.

Darkwing lifted the brim of his hat to give his adopted daughter a look very similar to the one that he had given the bank robber. Seeing from his enpurpling face that her allowance was about to get terminated for at least a month, Gosalyn Waddelmeyer Mallard spoke hastily.

Darkwing's: "Young lady, I told you never to come along on my case..." was run over by Gosalyn's: "You forgot your bank book."

Darkwing blinked sky blue eyes at the white gosling, then at the proffered bank passbook.

"You were going to deposit your paycheck, remember?" Gosalyn added, sensing moral victory.

"Oh, right," Darkwing sighed. He looked around, but besides his loyal sidekick, Launchpad McQuack, there was nobody in sight. Within seconds, Darkwing Duck, champion of right, defender of justice, had been replaced with Drake Mallard, single parent and depositor of paychecks.

"Well, since you're here, why don't we go get some pizza?" Drake asked.

"Keen gear!" enthused Gosalyn.

"Great! I'm hungry!" Launchpad said. The pilot finished off his apple and pulled a package of chips from the pocket of his flight jacket.

"But aren't you forgetting something?" Gosalyn asked slyly.

Drake gave her a superior look. "The cops won't be finished in the bank for almost an hour. The lines are going to be worse than for the new Indiana Jones Ride!"

"oh."

The trio of heroes went off to enjoy their meal, little realizing that dark forces were plotting against them.

Steelbeak the master spy for F.O.W.L. (Fiendish Organization for World Larceny) was getting a vid-phone call from his employers.

"Okay, so waddya want this time?" the well dressed rooster-about-

town asked the shadowy figures. "Another million dollars? A secret formula... y'know, we haven't stolen any decent formulas in ages a-heh heh heh ... maybe a nice secret weapon..."

"A book."

"A book? Didcha try the library?" Steelbeak asked, affronted. After all, he was the best spy since James Hound and he hated to waste himself on trivial items.

His superior growled, showing more teeth than any duck should possess. Steelbeak decided that he'd better not complain about trivial items at the moment.

"This isn't just any book," his superior snarled. "This is the Barks Bible. I want it for my collection."

Steelbeak buffed his fingernails on his white tuxedo jacket. "Can do. So where is this bible? The Smithsonian? The Louvre? The Tower of London?"

"It's in a library," hissed his superior.

It was only a well-developed sense of self-preservation that prevented Steelbeak from crowing "toldja."

"Then why d'ya need me ta get it?" Steelbeak asked. "Anybody can break inta a library!"

"It won't be that easy," his superior warned.

"Why's this library so special?" Steelbeak wanted to know. "Does it have some sort of super fancy alarm system? An unbreakable safe? Man eating guard dogs?"

"It's in St. Canard."

Steelbeak slapped his forehead. "Oh, no! Not there! That's where that Darkwing Doofus hangs out! I can't so much as rob a henhouse without that caped creep puffing out of the woodwork... 'I am the terror that flaps in the night... I am the egomaniac who always has to introduce himself...' Gah! I can't stand it! Do I have to?"

"No," hissed his shadowy supervisor. "You can always take early retirement."

Steelbeak considered. Retirement in this organization generally meant from life. "Well, I'll think a' something... Steelbeak out."

The rooster poured himself a cocktail and threw himself into his favorite easy chair and scowled up at the ceiling. 'Oh, great, I gotta get that book or I'm coq au vin. But how?' He pondered the problem for hours, but every scheme he dreamed up was interrupted by visions of Darkwing Duck smoking in and ruining everything.

"No way around it," he told his drink. "I hate that Darkwing Do-gooder and his hokey entrances... his hokey entrances..." an idea percolated through the toxic waste that made up Steelbeak's mind. It made sense, it was workable, and it was nasty. Naturally, he loved it. The rooster's metal beak twisted into a mockery of a smile.

The cocktail glass broke.

"Oh, I don't believe this," Gosalyn slapped her hand over her eyes. "All I want to do is scarf some pizza, and play some video games and what happens?"

"Shut up, brat," snarled the masked hawk. "Nobody moves, and nobody gets hurt!" he added, waving his gun around.

Alarmed, Gosalyn scootched back in her seat until she ran into Launchpad's leather clad form. She blinked. 'Waitaminnit,' Gosalyn thought. 'Dad was sitting between me and Launchpad! So where...'

*FWHMPT*!

The hawk whirled around. "What the...?"

"I am the Terror the Flaps in the Night!"

The robber got a lung full of blue smoke and began to cough and sputter. Darkwing sighed, this was gong to be too easy. "I am the delivery boy who brings you stone cold pizza... with double anchovies."

As he spoke, Darkwing walked up to the choking stick up artist and tapped him on the shoulder. The hawk looked around. "I am Darkwing Duck," was the last thing the robber heard before Darkwing punched his lights out.

By the time the smoke cleared, Drake Mallard was back in his seat, arms around his daughter and a suitably alarmed expression on his face.

"Good job, D.W.!" whispered Launchpad.

Drake looked smug. "Thanks, L.P."

"Show off," muttered Gosalyn.

"If you got it, flaunt it," replied Drake smugly.

When the cops had come and gone and their pizza had finally been delivered to their table, Gosalyn said in a more conciliatory tone: "That's really keen the way you just pop in and out like that! Can you teach me?" 'What a great way to ditch school!' she added to herself.

Drake buffed his fingernails on his sweater vest and said: "Sorry, Goz, trade secret. Besides, we wouldn't want you sneaking off and missing school, would we?"

Gosalyn crossed her arms and scowled. "What makes you think I was planning to ditch school?" she demanded.

Drake looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm a parent, I know these things." He added to himself: 'That's why I invented that trick in the first place.' He smiled paternally and patted his daughter on her head.

Gosalyn sulked through the rest of dinner.

Finally Drake couldn't stand it anymore. "Aw, come on, Goz. Don't be like that. Tell you what. There's no school tomorrow, so why don't I take you along on my patrol tonight?"

Gosalyn perked up. "You mean it? Excitement! Danger!! And all that neat stuff!!!" she didn't wait for an answer. "Let's go!"

"Not just yet, first we have to let our dinner settle, then we have to go to the night deposit and deposit my paycheck. And remember, you are coming merely as an observer. Stay out of any action!"

Gosalyn looked like chocolate wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Me? Oh, of course!" Mentally, she crossed her fingers. Drake was too good at spotting her fingers crossing for her to do it physically.

Darkwing didn't have to see the fingers crossing to know what was on Gosalyn's mind. But he figured he could keep her out of any trouble. He gave her his most devil-may-care grin and said: "Come on, let's get dangerous!"

Steelbeak had his trap almost ready. Two questions remained... what to use as bait, and what to use as ammunition. "Automatics?... nah, he probably has a bulletproof cape." He paused in his pacing and rubbed his steel beak. "Machine guns? Nah, these bozo Eggmen of mine would probably kill each other in the crossfire." He shook his head until his red comb flapped. "Then I'd have to train a new batch of henchmen, what a pain."

The white rooster resumed pacing. "Lasers? Nah, too flashy. Besides, these clowns are likely to fry me. I need something safe, even if it hits me. Something that will keep that Darkwing Dimwit in one place long enough for me to torture him to death..."

He stopped pacing and scratched his head. "Geez, I wish there was an encyclopedia or something I could consult for ideas for fiendish traps, I'm stuck!"

A little light bulb went off over his head. "Stuck! that's it! Why didn't I think of that before! He'll be at my a-heh heh heh mercy. Or he would be if I had any! a-heh heh heh So, now all I need is the bait..." The really nasty grin returned to his face. "And I know just the two for the job. The Darkwing Dodo's fan club!"

Gosalyn was sulking again. Here it was an hour past her bedtime and nothing was going on! No supervillains trying to take over the city, no mutant alien zombies attacking the hapless populace, no evil plotters plotting to heist the crown jewels of some visiting royalty. Nothing. Nada. Not even a jaywalker. She was not only bored, she was starting to get tired. But she knew that if she yawned, that Darkwing would have her tucked up in bed before she could say: "I'm not tired!"

"Darkwing, I'm bored!" she wailed from the sidecar of The Rat-catcher, Darkwing's totally cool motorcycle. She cradled the baseball bat she had insisted on bringing.

"Me, too," Launchpad admitted. He shifted to avoid having his eye poked out by the bat and stuffed another handful of porkrinds into his mouth.

"Sorry, Goz, but not every night is an action packed adventure."

"Bah!" Gosalyn snorted.

"And I'm hungry!" Launchpad continued. He turned his bag upside down, caught the last crumbs and licked them off his fingers.

Darkwing slowed the Rat-catcher to scowl at his sidekick. "Launchpad, you're always... having good ideas!" he finished, changing from irritated to enthusiastic in a heartbeat.

"I am?" Launchpad asked in astonishment.

"Why, sure, buddy!" Darkwing said enthusiastically. "I know, why don't you two run over to the 24-hour bakery shop and get some eclairs and I'll run into the 6-10 and get some of those super- slurpo- slushpuppies?"

"Keen gear!" enthused Gosalyn, who had almost as big an appetite as Launchpad. She loved the super-slurpo- slushpuppies, but Darkwing had banned them from the house after she and Launchpad had gotten into a food fight with them.

Darkwing parked the Rat-catcher in a conveniently located alley while Gosalyn and Launchpad scurried over to the bakery. They were almost at the door when Launchpad stopped and asked: "Do you have any money?"

Gosalyn screeched to a startled halt and dug into her pockets. "Uhhh... thirty-seven cents. Guess we'd better go ask Dad for some dough."

They turned back to the 6-10, but before they went a few more steps they heard a distinct... *FWHMPT*!

"WHAT!" howled Gosalyn as blue smoke began seeping from the 6-10.

"I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night! I am the shopping cart whose wheels go right when you want to go left. I am DARKWING DUCK!"

Gosalyn and Launchpad ran in the 6-10 in time to see one would-be thief catch a shopping cart in his stomach, while Darkwing was wrapping up another with taffy from the refreshment stand. The clerk was flat on his back in a dead faint.

"Gack!" said Gosalyn.

"Hey, D.W., I'm supposed to help you!" complained Launchpad.

"You did, L.P.," panted Darkwing. "You kept the innocent bystanders out of the line of fire."

"Oh. Okay," Launchpad was mollified.

The 'innocent bystander' wasn't. "That was a dirty trick!" she hissed.

Darkwing threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, tell you what. You watch these two until the cops get here and I'll go get the eclairs."

"Alright!" Gosalyn enthused. She fetched her baseball bat from the Rat-catcher. "One move and you're a line drive," she warned.

The robbers were too dazed to even notice her threat.

"L.P., you call the cops and see to the clerk. I'll be right back." With that, the caped crimebuster sailed out of the 6-10 like he was going to a fire.

Gosalyn wondered at his haste. After all, he didn't even like eclairs... "Wait a minute!" she said, suspecting a double cross. After all, Darkwing knew that neither she nor Launchpad would go into the bakery without any money.

She started out the door just as the cops arrived. Seconds later, Darkwing emerged from the bakery with a pair of female robbers packaged up in paper bags and fancy bows.

"Oh, good, you're just in time," Darkwing said sweetly to the cops. "These two ladies went to the bakery while their boyfriends stopped off at the 6-10." He sighed dramatically. "I've run across this gang before. They never change their M.O."

He handed the robbers over to the bemused cops while Gosalyn slowly turned beet red with suppressed fury.

"Now I must be off and return this poor, lost child to her worried parents," Darkwing said in saccharine tones, patting Gosalyn on the head. "Ta, guys. Come along, Launchpad! Let's get... dangerous?"

Launchpad came out of the 6-10 with his arms laden with junk food. "Oh, D.W.!" he called around a mouthful of fried bagel chips. "Could you pay this guy? I don't have any money on me."

Darkwing sighed and dug money out of his jacket pocket. "Where are the super-slurpo-slushpuppies?" he asked.

"In my pocket," Launchpad said, indicating the bulging pockets of his leather flight jacket.

Darkwing shook his head. Only Launchpad would carry drinks in his pocket. Darkwing hoped the lids stayed on, those slushpuppy stains were almost impossible to remove. (As he knew from when he tried to clean the furniture after Gosalyn and Launchpad's food fight.)

The three bundled off in the Rat-catcher before the cops could ask any more questions and zipped off into the night.

"THAT WAS THE DIRTIEST TRICK YOU EVER PULLED! AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING, MR. TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!!" Gosalyn howled at the top of her lungs.

"If you had gone into the bakery, you would have had your chance to stop those two," Darkwing said.

"But you know how embarrassed I get when I don't have any money on me!" Gosalyn yelled. "You knew that we would turn around before we went in!"

Darkwing grinned broadly.

"We're supposed to be helping you!" protested Launchpad.

"It's not my fault you didn't spot those crimes," Darkwing said in his most irritating "nyah, nyah" voice. "If you want to be a crime fighter, like moi, you'll just have to learn to be observant, like moi. No perfidious perpetrator parries my penetrating perception. No calculated crime can keep clear of my cunning coup d'oeil..."

Unnoticed by Darkwing, Steelbeak and six of his yellow clad "Egg men" had picked up his trail and were following, just waiting their chance.

"I should a' thought of this sooner... a-heh heh heh," said Steelbeak. "It's such a pleasure being the hunter instead of the huntee."

Darkwing knew that he was going to have to use real cunning in order to keep Gosalyn from getting involved in the next crime.

"You'd better not try to trick us about the next one!" scolded Gosalyn. "I'm not a kid!" his kid continued. "I can take care of myself. I can fight as good as anyone. I can..."

"Gosalyn?" Darkwing ventured.

"WHAT!"

"If you weren't yelling so loudly, you'd probably hear the burglar alarm going off," Darkwing pointed out.

"oh." Gosalyn was subdued for about three and a half seconds.

"Sounds like The Honywumpus Drug Store on the corner of Questy and Jazmin," Launchpad observed.

Gosalyn opened her mouth to demand a piece of the action, when Darkwing remember the layout of the store and spoke up.

"I go in the front door. Launchpad, you and Gosalyn go around to the alley and come in through the back, that way, we'll have the thieves trapped between us!"

"All right!" Gosalyn enthused. "Let's go!"

"Let's get dangerous!" agreed Launchpad.

Gosalyn and Launchpad scurried around the corner and into the alley, where they made their horrifying discovery.

"Gee, D.W. must have made a mistake," Launchpad said innocently. "There's no doorway here!"

"Mistake my curve ball!" swore Gosalyn. "It was another trick to cheat me of my fight!"

"Well, if it's a fight ya want a-heh heh heh then I'll be more than happy to oblige ya! A-heh heh heh !"

Gosalyn and Launchpad looked around. Blocking the alley's only entrance was Steelbeak and his Eggmen.

Darkwing hurried through his routine and the capture, afraid that Gosalyn would come bursting in at any moment. He quickly tied up the two confused burglars, then dashed out of the store without waiting for the police.

"Launchpad, Gosalyn! Come on, let's go!"

There was no answer.

"Aw, c'mon guys... Let's get dangerous!!"

Still no reply.

Darkwing made a wry face. Maybe he had gone too far with that last trick... but he couldn't let Gosalyn be endangered. Then he noticed the note pinned to the Rat-catcher's seat. Half expecting to be an order to take a long walk off a short pier, he picked it up.

I have the girl and the dummy. If you want them back, you'll have to find them. Your first clue is: You can check us out any time, but bring us back promptly or get a fine"

Signed: Steelbeak

P.S. Kiss your tailfeathers good-bye.

Darkwing crumpled the note up and flung his arm across his eyes in shame and fury. "This is all my fault! I never should have allowed them to get involved! What am I going to do!?"

"Call St. Canard's finest! Call the state police!! Call the national guard!!!" He uncovered his eyes, and sighed: "Wait a minnit, I'm the hero here. I guess it's up to me to rescue them as usual." (The Drake Mallard, concerned father howled at him, but Darkwing Duck, enraged hero, ignored him for the moment.) "But where to start?"

He uncrumpled the note. "Hmm, my keen detective's mind should unravel this clue quickly. I am an expert on codes and ciphers and riddles. The fact that it is written on the back of an overdue notice from the St. Canard Public Library won't hurt either." The masked mallard began to pace. "Hmm, the only reason Steelbeak would have made this so easy is if he wanted me to solve it. So he wants me to follow his trail of notes right into his trap. If I could only find a short-cut."

He cast his eyes heavenward, no help. He looked down and noticed a trail of red. For a long moment, his heart froze into a solid lump in his chest. Then he noticed the ice on the street, and his heart picked up it's pace. "Not blood..." D.W. murmured. He leaned down and stuck a finger into the redness. Then he tasted: "A super-slurpo- slushpuppy, just as I suspected... Launchpad's in for a heck of a cleaning bill." Then he smiled, those slushpuppies were almost impossible to clean up. Maybe he had his shortcut after all.

He looked up into the sky. "Thanks." He then made preparations to go dashing to the rescue.

Launchpad and Gosalyn were chained the wall of Steelbeak's current hideout: A factory with grimy and broken skylights, and catwalks crisscrossing every which way. The room was huge, but there was a feeling of claustrophobia about the place because of the numerous tarps hung all over.

"You'll never get away with this!" warned Launchpad.

"Yeah!" Gosalyn said spiritedly. "Darkwing will turn you into a can opener, tin grin!"

"Such a spirited child a-heh heh heh. " Steelbeak chucked Gosalyn under the chin and narrowly avoided being bitten. "I can see why that Darkwing dimbulb keeps ya around. To torture his prisoners!"

He turned away from the fuming prisoners and began harrying his men into position. Unnoticed, a shadowy figure slipped in through a glassless skylight and took position in the lighting fixtures.

Gosalyn squirmed in an effort to get a hand free. She could hear Launchpad struggle for a moment, then stop and go 'ouch'.

"Are you okay, Launchpad?" she twisted her head around to look. "You're hurt!"

"Nah," Launchpad said. "Just bruised where those Eggmen grabbed me."

"But you're bleeding!!" Gosalyn was beginning to freak. Getting kidnapped by the most infamous superspy of her generation she could handle. Launchpad bleeding she couldn't. After all, she felt responsible for the big lug.

Launchpad shook his head. "The slushpuppies leaked. Man, am I going to have a huge cleaning bill after D.W. rescues us!"

Before Gosalyn could react, Steelbeak interrupted. "Darkwing isn't going to rescue anybody! He's going to fall right into my trap!"

"What trap?" Gosalyn and Launchpad asked in the same breath.

"Yeah, what trap, Steeljerk?" Darkwing muttered from his perch. "And is it as good as mine?"

Steelbeak's comb went up in surprise. Then he smoothed it down. "Oh, yeah, this is the part where I gloat about my masterful plan a-heh heh heh. Well, I'd hate ta break with tradition. Y'see, Darkwing is following a series of clues designed to lead him to this factory. He'll come bursting in, with his dopey... "I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the tie that clashes with your suit... blah blah blah."

"I never go blah, blah, blah," Darkwing muttered. "I'm much more dramatic than that!"

"And then he makes his dramatic entrance with his blue smoke. Well, these Eggmen are set up on all sides of this room. The second they see blue smoke, they open up fire with these babies. a-heh heh heh " He gestured and the tarps dropped and showed two dozen Eggmen standing next to very large, deadly looking weapons. " Guess what they are! a-heh heh heh ."

"Machine guns?" ventured Launchpad.

Steelbeak shook his head. "Nope."

"Laser cannons?" guessed one of the eggmen.

"Guess again," Steelbeak invited.

"Atomic-powered, electron lensed, hyper-energized hypno-mutagen death ray machines!" Gosalyn burst out.

"Oh, ya saw that movie, too? a-heh heh heh I couldn't stand to watch after the hero trashed two tuxedos in the first half. No, it's not that either. They're..."

Gosalyn, Launchpad, Darkwing and the eggmen held their breaths.

"... industrial strength..."

Gosalyn, Launchpad, Darkwing and the eggmen were going blue in the face.

"...Glue guns. A-heh heh heh !"

"WHAT!!!" a full two dozen voices shrieked out.

Darkwing clamped his hand over his beak in embarrassment. Fortunately, nobody else heard him over the general din.

"Glue guns. When the Darkwing Dirtball shows up, we're gonna stick him to the floor, so I can dispose of him at my leisure. When he's taken care of, then I can steal the Barks' Bible without interference."

'The Bark's bible? Hmm, better get that put in a safe place,' Darkwing mused.

"You'll need a bible after Darkwing gets through with you!!" howled Gosalyn. The thought of Launchpad bleeding was bad enough. But the thought of her dad in this maniac's clutches... and all because she insisted on coming along on his patrol... well, that was just too much.

Steelbeak chuckled to himself as he surveyed the glue gun placements. "Remember, the minute you see blue smoke just open up and spray every inch that the smoke covers. That Darkwing Dolt will be in there somewhere."

Darkwing grinned.

"... And don't worry about sticking each other, I'll free ya later. Just spray everything in range and keep spraying until I say stop or you get too stuck to move. In other words: Wait for the blue smoke, aim at the blue smoke, fire at the blue smoke. Got it?"

"Got it, boss!" chorused the eggmen.

"Good, now repeat it back to me."

Obediently the eggmen chanted back. "Wait for the blue smoke. Aim at the blue smoke. Fire at the blue smoke."

"GOOD! You featherheads may actually pull this off. Now, keep alert, it ought to take him another hour to finish tracking down those clues, but he might actually be faster than I think..."

This seemed like a good cue.

"I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night..." he boomed.

The eggmen gripped the handles of their glueguns and looked for smoke.

"I am the smoker in the non-smoking section..."

There was a pffft, then a clank at Steelbeak's feet. The rooster looked down at the little canister in surprise. Then the canister exploded with a *FWHMPT*. A cloud of blue smoke enveloped the iron jawed rooster. Steelbeak had just enough time to realize he didn't have enough time to countermand his orders, when every industrial strength glue gun in the room was triggered at once.

"I am... NOT an idiot!" Darkwing announced. Seconds later, the glue had solidified and Darkwing jumped gracefully to the ground. He looked around.

The trap had been well laid. Every single Eggman was glued solidly to his post. And, in the center of the room, the piece de resistance, Steelbeak encased in a solid glue straight jacket.

"It's you, Beaky. Really, it's you!" Darkwing mocked.

Steelbeak growled.

"Yepyepyep," Darkwing said smugly, crossing his arms. "This one will make the papers for sure..." He looked back at his sidekicks to see if they properly appreciated his genius. Then he saw that the glue had fastened Gosalyn and Launchpad to the wall even more securely than their chains.

He froze in shock. If those had been real guns... Terror clawed at his guts, then transformed into fury. He jumped on Steelbeak's petrified form and gave him a glare that could melt titanium.

"You put my... sidekick in the line of fire!" shrieked Darkwing. "You put HER in the line of fire!!!! You overgrown, steel plated, mushbrained, muddlefooted, cockeyed excuse of a human being!" Darkwing's rage was beginning to raise the temperature of the room. "How dare you put HER in the line of fire!!!"

The generated heat was softening the glue, allowing Darkwing to get a grip on Steelbeak's neck. "If you ever touch HER, or ever touch any child... If you even so much as look at one cross-eyed, much less put them in the line of fire... I... will... personally... STUFF you with chestnuts and ROAST you on an OPEN FIRE!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?" howled Darkwing.

By now the glue had loosened so much that awed Steelbeak could manage a nod.

"GOOD!"

"Darkwing!" Gosalyn cried out as the heat loosened her bonds.

Darkwing realized at the same time that Gosalyn had, that if Steelbeak's and Gosalyn's bonds were getting loose, then so were the Eggmen's. And, as he was outnumbered approximately ten zillion to one...

He grabbed his smoke gun and shoved in the flying buzz saw attachment. He fired at the chains. The flying buzzsaw chomped through Gosalyn's fetters and then minced Launchpad's. The staggered away from the wall

"Let's go!" Darkwing ordered, grabbing them by the wrists, hauling tailfeathers for the exit, and dragging his sidekicks behind him.

The eggmen and Steelbeak pried themselves from the weakened glue and gave pursuit. Steelbeak outpaced the two dozen eggmen and was the first to burst out of the warehouse into...

Darkwing's trap.

Three dozen of St. Canard's finest, plus a platoon of state police, plus a few squads of the national guard had totally surrounded the warehouse.

"I thought I'd invite a few friends to this party," Darkwing said casually from his perch atop the biggest tank Steelbeak had ever seen. "Hope you don't mind."

The police took Steelbeak and his confederates into custody and Darkwing made a quick phone call to inform the St. Canard Library of the threat to its most prized possession.

"Since when do YOU call the cops!?" demanded Gosalyn.

"Darkwing Duck never calls the cops," Darkwing denied. "Is it my fault that Drake Mallard hit the panic button when his beloved daughter disappeared from her room?"

Darkwing put his arms around Gosalyn and steered her towards the Rat-catcher. "I have an idea. Let's do something really dangerous tomorrow!"

"Like what?" Gosalyn demanded.

"Clean up your room," Darkwing said dryly.

"Aww, I was hoping you'd say 'go to Disneyland'," complained Gosalyn.

Darkwing laughed. "Really, Gosalyn, you must learn to live in the real world!"