For his part, Drake had had an extremely good morning: he'd heard a call go out over the police radio right after dropping Gosalyn off at the Cups and Courtesy Club. Darkwing Duck had foiled a bank robbery, dropped the incompetent crooks off at the police station, posed for Polaroids, and been back at 537 Avian Way with plenty of time to spare. He'd done the necessary chores with the radio blasting, bopping his way around the living room to his favorite radio station with the vaccum and spray bottle as his dance card partners, then made himself a sandwich and flopped down on the couch with a glass of lemonade and a brand new mystery novel.
He was fully into it, too, having no problem imagining himself right alongside private eye Dick Downcoat as he skulked the seedy streets of Slush City, looking for whatever crooked criminal had kidnapped the beautiful Chickita DelMar's fiance. The shadowy figure following Downcoat gave off a sense of impending doom so strong, he could almost feel it himself ...
... and then the door opened. He jumped, letting out a little yelp of surprise, then chuckled at himself, marking his spot.
"Well, there's my social butterfly. How was the CCC?" He smiled, hoping that Gosalyn hadn't been TOO miserable. Honestly, she needed more friends her age, and while Honker was a good kid, he knew that she wasn't doing her future any favors only spending her time with a cowardly bookworm or tagging along with her father on patrol. He didn't want her to end up like him: awkward and alone, with little to no idea how to deal with people. But because he, himself, had those exact issues, he wasn't sure how to be proactive about them for her. Hence, the club. It was what most people with daughters seemed to do, after all, and he hadn't quite yet learned the lesson that the Mallards were never really going to be most people.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-11-16 07:38 pm (UTC)He was fully into it, too, having no problem imagining himself right alongside private eye Dick Downcoat as he skulked the seedy streets of Slush City, looking for whatever crooked criminal had kidnapped the beautiful Chickita DelMar's fiance. The shadowy figure following Downcoat gave off a sense of impending doom so strong, he could almost feel it himself ...
... and then the door opened. He jumped, letting out a little yelp of surprise, then chuckled at himself, marking his spot.
"Well, there's my social butterfly. How was the CCC?" He smiled, hoping that Gosalyn hadn't been TOO miserable. Honestly, she needed more friends her age, and while Honker was a good kid, he knew that she wasn't doing her future any favors only spending her time with a cowardly bookworm or tagging along with her father on patrol. He didn't want her to end up like him: awkward and alone, with little to no idea how to deal with people. But because he, himself, had those exact issues, he wasn't sure how to be proactive about them for her. Hence, the club. It was what most people with daughters seemed to do, after all, and he hadn't quite yet learned the lesson that the Mallards were never really going to be most people.