 It'd been a bad season for SHUSH. Agents had been turning up dead in the most unlikely ways and places. First there were the two that got frozen in a bar of banana frozen yogurt. Two of J. Gander's best agents, in fact. He stood in front of the monitor, reviewing the footage that had been found, and shook his head.
"What an appalling end..."
"Absolutely chilling." Darkwing Duck said, appearing in the window.
"You could try using the door." Hooter frowned.
"Not my style. What's with your chilly chums?" He asked, gesturing to the monitor.
"Someone's methodically killing my top agents. First there was Agent Perkins, who'd been investigating the illegal handling of exotic animals." J. Gander held up a photo of a snake dangling from a branch, the form of a SHUSH agent discernable within. "Then there was ...." He set a can down in front of Darkwing.
He picked it up, blinking. "A can of tuna?"
J. Gander sighed. "Agent Campbell. Undercover at a fish packing plant."
Darkwing set the can down hurriedly. "EEEEEEW... canned on the job, eh?"
J. Gander nodded. "The master list of SHUSH agents has been stolen. These murders were committed as proof of posession. ... The ransom note." He took out a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to Darkwing, who scrutinized it carefully. "The felon responsible wants all the tea in China."
Darkwing gasped. "A hawk's talon! That's the mark of Phineas Sharp, arch rival of Derek Blunt!"
"So you are familiar with him."
"Familiar?" Darkwing scoffed, "Isn't everyone? 23 novels, 16 maaaajor motion pictures, and a merchandise line based on his secret agent gear!" He grinned, looking even more enthusiastic than Gosalyn at a slasher movie.
J. Gander shot Darkwing a stern glance. "He was the only agent who was cunning enough to capture Phineas Sharp!"
"Well, yeah. That too."
"I've taken the liberty of calling Derek out of retirement to handle this case. Of course, you're not officially under SHUSH jurisdiction, but I hope you will take the duty of working with him."
Darkwing leapt into the air. "YESSSSS!!!" He coughed, then leant against J. Gander's desk nonchalantly. "Um... whatever you think is best."
"Well, I'm warning you --" J. Gander perused a dossier, oblivious to Darkwing as he pranced happily around the office. "Don't confuse the man with the movie character. Derek is a lot less... technical minded."
"Alright," a heavily British accented voice issued from the doorway. "What's all this nonsense about getting me a partner?" Derek Blunt himself strode irately into the office, a tall eagle in a white suit. Though his bushy eyebrows had turned to grey, he still held the impressive air he'd become so famous for. He walked right past an ecstatic Darkwing and leant over J. Gander's desk. "And a costumed buffoon at that! You know I like things simple. I work alone!"
J. Gander coughed. "Uh, Derek Blunt? Meet Darkwing Duck...." He winced.
"An honor to meet you!!" Darkwing grinned, springing forward dramatically.
Blunt turned his beak towards the ceiling. "Yes, I'm sure." He mumbled. Darkwing slumped, crestfallen.
"Oh, now, Derek," J. Gander said, stepping between them, "As an independent operative, Darkwing Duck is not on the list of SHUSH spies! Phineas Sharp knows your movements all too well, and Darkwing may well be the wild card he'll never expect!"
DW brightened. "Oh yeah, that's me all over, a real wild card!"
Blunt raised an eyebrow. "More like the joker of the deck."
Sidling over to J. Gander, Darkwing whispered, "Don't worry, J. Gander. He'll change his mind when he sees me in action. ... Don't worry about ME, Derek Blunt!" He said determinedly, rushing over to the window. "Be they spies or criminals, evildoers everywhere fear me!" He threw down a trademark smoke pellet. "For I am the terror, that flaps in the night! I ... am Darkwing Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-AAAAAAHH!" He screeched as he lost his balance and fell through the open window.
As Derek looked down at J. Gander dubiously, the head of SHUSH Central grinned sheepishly and shrugged.
A few moments later found Darkwing and Blunt driving through St. Canard in the secret agent's car - remeniscent of an olive green Volkswagon Bug.
Darkwing blinked. "What happened to your Lambourghini, the one with the heat-seeking missile launcher?" He pouted.
"Those," Blunt sniffed disdainfully, "Only exist in those unfortunate motion pictures based on my biography. Cheap theatrics work well in the movies, but they have no place in a real agent's life... Darkwing."
Darkwing flinched as they drove up to the Audubon Bay Bridge. As the car ascended into the tower, he perked back up. "You're gonna love this! It's got all the latest technology!"
"A good agent works out of a cardboard box, if need be."
"Well, suuuuure, but does a cardboard box have all this???" Darkwing zipped around the tower, presenting all his gadgets to Blunt proudly. "Pretty cool, eh Blunty? I bet I could take care of all your case-solving needs!" He grinned, hanging off the secret agent's shoulder in what he hoped was a gesture of cameraderie.
"With this equipment," Blunt said sardonically, pushing Darkwing away, "Any idiot could take care of my case-solving needs... what SHUSH needs is a real agent!" He sniffed, walking away.
"Any idiot?" Darkwing whimpered. "But this is just like the stuff you used in Goldfeather!!"
In an instant, Blunt was in Darkwing's face. "I TOLD YOU!" He snapped. "THOSE ARE JUST MOVIES! Perhaps we could examine the ransom note for leads now?"
"Yessss!" Darkwing seized the paper from Blunt. "Hmm."
"You'll notice there's a sandy substance stuck to the edge there..." He stated, true to his surname.
"Sandy substance?" Darkwing scoffed. "Izzat the best you can do?" He carried the paper over to an elaborate laboratory setup. "We don't leave these things up to guesswork!" After running the paper through chemical baths, flame, and other apparatus, he triumphantly held up a grain in a pair of tweezers. "Aha! After detailed analysis, I can definately conclude that this sandy substance is ..... sand."
"Brilliant." Blunt remarked dryly. He picked up the grain, sniffed it, licked it, then concluded, "This sand could only have come from one corner of the world. ... You wouldn't happen to have something as simple as a map among all these gimmicks?"
"Of course!" He led Derek to one massive wall and pushed a button. Instantly a map slid down, covering the entire wall. Darkwing stepped onto a platform and navigated it up to a group of islands on the map.
"The sand came from here. The Salad Sea." Blunt remarked, pulling out a highlighter.
"There must be a thousand islands there!" Darkwing blinked. "How can you be sure which one?"
Blunt circled one of the islands. "That is where Phineas Sharp is hiding. That is where he sent the ransom note from. And that is where we must go."
The lower half of Darkwing's beak quivered. "He drew on my map." He pouted.
"It is the only island which does not contain the tree which was elemental in Sharp's first and only capture. Now," He remarked, lowering the platform, "We'll need some sort of air transportation."
Darkwing continued to pout. "He drew on my map..." He repeated plaintively, as they headed for the Thunderquack, where Launchpad was closing the hood.
"She's all juiced up and ready to go, DW." Launchpad announced.
"You mean to tell me," Derek Blunt sneered, "you can't do the flying yourself???"
Darkwing crossed his arms. "Blunt, Launchpad..." He said sullenly. "Launchpad, Blunt..."
Derek strode past them and into the plane. "I never needed a sidekick." He scoffed.
"What he needs," Darkwing seethed as he stomped past Launchpad, "is a bonk on the beak!"
Meanwhile in his lavish office in the Salad Sea, Phineas Sharp sat among countless voodoo dolls and effigies of Derek Blunt. Merrily, he set one in a petite quillotine and grinned as its head was sliced off. Cackling, he flicked the head out onto the floor as one of his lackies shuffled in.
"SHUSH has assigned Derek Blunt to the case, just as you wanted, Phineas, sir..." The lackey stuttered.
"Excellent, excellent!" Sharp grinned, picking up an axe and hacking up some more dummies.
"But aren't you afraid that he'll defeat you again? I mean..." The lackey wrung his hat in his hands. "it was pretty humiliating."
"It was LUCK, that's all!" Phineas ranted, shoving the lackey to the ground. "He couldn't have known I was allergic to Gurbstickular Tree sap! But now I'll have my revenge! Now go away." He pressed a button on his desk and a trap door opened, dropping the lackey through the floor. "Derek Blunt..." Sharp cackled, picking up yet another voodoo doll and squeezing it until the head popped off. "It's time to make your retirement PERMANENT! Muhahahahahahaaaaa!!!!"
Meanwhile, airborne over the island, Launchpad grinned. "That's gotta be it."
"Yes..." Blunt indicated a lavish mansion. "That would be Sharp's hideout. He was always a slave to creature comforts." He turned to Darkwing, hanging over his shoulder. "Much like you, actually."
"Much like youuuu actually. HUH." Darkwing mocked, turning to Launchpad. "Ok, LP, bring us down for a landing."
"Ok, DW!"
Instantly the Thunderquack went into Launchpad's famous crash landings, complete with knocked-over palm trees and a screeching Derek Blunt.
"Are you CRAZY?" He hollered, climbing out of the cockpit. "You and your sidekick stay here and play with your gimmicks. I'm the expert on Sharp, I'll have that list back within the hour." He snapped, straightening his rumpled suitcoat.
"Fine," Darkwing snapped. "Use your primitive methods, but I'm investigating this case with a trick I learned from your movies, where they're not afraid of modern technology!" He whipped open his cape, revealing an apparatus similar to that from The Rocketeer. "This jet pack will let me hover over the island and confiscate the list. Just watch my dust!" He grinned, pushing a button. The pack immediately went into reverse, driving him into the ground. "Heh..."
Moments later found the three agents trekking through the jungle. Blunt took the lead, with Launchpad in the middle and Darkwing behind. Every branch that was pushed back turned to hit him in the face, which only fueled his aggravation.
"Arrogant --" WHAP! "Self centered --" WHAP! "Mr. Legendary SHUSH spy thinks he knows everything...." WHONK. Darkwing ran straight into a tree and ricocheted backwards into the brush. "We're wasting time. We need my mega-vibrating jungle slasher." He pulled out a device.
"NO!!!" Blunt and Launchpad yelped.
Too late. Darkwing pressed the button and a blade whipped out from the contraption, whacking a pell-mell path through the foliage and tattering Blunt's suit. He rolled up his sleeves and stormed over to Darkwing.
"There, that oughta make a little headway." Darkwing grinned, then choked as Blunt grabbed him by the throat.
"You idiot, the entire island probably heard that! You are not to touch another one of your ridiculous gimmicks without my permission!!!" With that, he dropped the masked mallard on the ground and continued on.
"Well, aren't WE in a snit!" Darkwing called after him.
"Gee, DW," Launchpad frowned, helping him up. "Ya did almost kill us."
"So?" He snapped. "It's not like anybody DIED." With that, they snuck behind some bushes surrounding a small water hole.
"Sharp's hideout should be just over that rise," Blunt whispered.
"No prob!" Darkwing pulled out a pair of binoculars. "I'll check it out with my ---"
"NO MORE GIMMICKS!" Blunt exploded, grabbing Darkwing and shaking them all from his pockets and into the water. "Not one! Not even an eyebrow plucker!!!"
"Hey, that's mine!" Darkwing hissed. "You can't..."
"Over this way!" A voice called. Instantly, the three of them ducked into the bushes. Three burly thugs came into the clearing. "Keep an eye out, the boss'll murder us if we lose another one! Somewhere in those bushes!"
A muscular arm started fishing around in the bush as Darkwing, Launchpad and Blunt crouched ever lower. "Any suggestions, Mr. No Gimmicks?" Darkwing whispered irritably.
Suddenly, one of the thugs drew a volleyball from the bushes. "It's two-four, in our favor." He grinned.
"No way!" Another objected, as they headed back over the ridge. "Never let an embezzler keep score."
"What is this," Darkwing raised an eyebrow as he peered out, "Beach Blanket Bozos?"
"We'd better check it out." Blunt nodded.
At the mansion, which resembled an extravagant Floridian hotel, villains from all walks of live were enjoying themselves. Magicka DeSpell was sitting by the pool, while Flintheart Glomgold pitched horseshoes with the Beagle Boys and Steelbeak played a game of poker with Ammonia Pine.
"That's Steelbeak and Ammonia Pine, two of FOWL's top agents!" Darkwing gasped, as Ammonia picked up a vaccum and sucked up all the poker chips.
"Looks like Ammonia's cleaning up." Launchpad quipped.
"But what're they doing here??"
"It should be obvious even to YOU, Darkwing. Phineas is using the resort as a cover to auction the list off to the highest bidder!" Blunt explained testily.
"We have to get inside." Darkwing scowled.
Derek nodded. "We'll need disguises..."
A few moments later found the two spies creeping into the hotel complex. They hid in two of the beach-style changing rooms and emerged as two bellboys.
"We must fit in with the surroundings." Blunt instructed.
"I can fit in just as well as the next guy." Darkwing argued.
"Perhaps, considering who the next guy is." Blunt chuckled, as Launchpad emerged dressed as Carmen Miranda.
"Hey guys, it's me, Launchpad!" He beamed. "I can tell you're impressed... pretty good disguise, huh? I couldn't even tell it was me!"
Darkwing clapped a hand over his eyes. "Don't... say... a thing."
"Actually it's a good diversion...."
"YOU TWO!" Phineas Sharp hollered. "Don't think I wouldn't notice you lurking about!" Darkwing and Blunt exchanged glances. "Get these bags to their rooms! NOW!"
"Yessir, right away, sir, Bags R Us!" Darkwing blurted, running over and picking up a stack as Blunt followed suit.
"And hurry up!"
"Yessir." Darkwing grunted, stumbling off under the load of a dozen bags.
"Ah yes, Horatio," Sharp gloated to his lackey as they strode towards the buffet, "Not only will this list give me a good income, but it will also provide the perfect trap for Derek Blunt." He smiled, plucking a grape off a fruit pile, then spit it out instantly. "UGH, and have someone get rid of this, the fruit's gone bad."
Beneath his fruit hat, Launchpad frowned. "I gotta warn the guys!!"
Later, Darkwing and Derek headed down the hallway. The former was sulking, while the latter counted a large wad of tips.
"Darkwing Duck decides that the bellboy cover is a reeeally stupid idea - besides, it's taking away from my deductive work." He narrated to himself. "And I didn't even get a TIP!" He griped, pulling off the jacket to reveal his costume beneath, as Phineas and Horatio came down the hall.
"I want everything perfect for the auction tonight!" Sharp ordered. Horatio nodded.
"QUICK!" Blunt snapped, dragging Darkwing down the hall and forsaking his tips. Frantically, Darkwing pulled him into a laundry bin, and the two shook hands as they covered themselves.
"You see?" Sharp's voice issued from above. "Dirty laundry, this is just the thing I'm talking about. Dump it."
"Yes sir..." Horatio replied, tipping the bin down a chute. The two SHUSH spies landed in the midst of a laundry room with a giant high-tech security door at one end.
"Aha, this must be where Sharp is keeping the list!" Blunt crowed.
"Yeah, and we coulda been in it in SECONDS with my lock picking kit. But noooo," Darkwing sneered, "Someone THREW IT IN A LAKE!"
"A real agent works with what he has." Derek plucked a feather from DW's head and inserted it in a slot of the door lock. "This should be simple to override... DUCK!!!"
Darkwing blinked. "Yeah, what?" He shrugged, as the lock exploded in a cloud of smoke. "Next time," he coughed, "Try being more specific!"
They climbed inside the vault. There, on a pedastal, lay a slip of paper - the list! Darkwing sprang over and picked it up. After a moment, he blinked.
"It just says..... Gotcha." He mused.
Blunt's eyes widened in horror. "GOTCHA?" He snatched the paper from Darkwing. "It's a trap! Get out, run!"
"What're you TALKING about?" Darkwing snapped.
"It's just a little game Derek and I have played throughout the years..." Sharp's voice laughed from somewhere around them, then he walked into the vault. "Derek, your retirement is slowing you down. I'd expected you fifteen seconds ago." He grinned playfully and snatched the paper away. "Gotcha."
Blunt growled in frustration. "Why, you..."
Phineas snapped his fingers, and instantly they were surrounded by gunment. At that moment, Launchpad came running into the room, straight into the circle of gunmen.
"GUYS!" He panted. "It's a trap!!"
Darkwing elbowed him harshly.
"Um...." Launchpad looked around at the guns and raised his hands. "I... guess you knew about that..."
"Don't worry, Blunt." Darkwing said, as they dangled by their wrists from gymnast rings, their ankles weighted by barbells as they hung in the center of a spa. "I've been out of tougher things than this! ... Of course, I usually wake up before anything happens."
Launchpad piped up from his spot in a boxlike sauna. "I hate it when that happens."
"You'll notice my hotel has every modern amenity," Phineas Sharp boasted, striding up to them, "including this exercise facility. Before I leave you, let me show you some of its... features. As your friend loses weight --" He gestured to Launchpad, "He will rise up on the scale." He turned up the steam dial.
"Train leaving on track nine," Launchpad panted.
"As the scale lowers, the hook will release the rope tied to these barbells, which will fall down, knocking over this Olympic-quality skate equipped with a burning candle. The candle will come to rest underneath this rope, which is secured to the weights that are holding you down. The rope will burn through, and after a moment of EXCRUCIATING pain....."
Darkwing and Blunt looked at each other and gulped.
"....You'll be torn in half." Sharp grinned. "I'd love to stay and work out, but I have an auction to attend. Somethng about a list of secret agents that will ruin SHUSH and make me... a billionaire." Laughing maniacally, he made his exit.
(Reporter's note: What, no chorus of "Goodbye So Soon"?)
"Well." Blunt sighed. "This is how it ends. Ripped in two. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. I didn't even get to raise a family. All I have is a line of tawdry movies, books, and memorabilia."
"Yeah whatever." Darkwing muttered.
"I'm sorry I threw your gimmicks away. In truth, I found them more impressive than the ones in Live and Let Spy..."
"Gi ---" Darkwing stuttered. "That's right, I still have one of my acid cufflinks! If I can get it, I'll free my hands and release us all!"
"Way to go DW!!" Launchpad cheered, as Darkwing got hold of the cufflink. Unfortunately he lost his grip and it sailed onto the floor... right onto the leg of the table the candle was perched on. "You got the table leg! Alriiiight, DW!!!" The candle fell on the floor, torching the rug. "Now ya got the floor goin'...." He grinned. Then the flames crept up and began to sear the rope that held their barbells in place. "Uh, what good's burnin' the rope gonna do, DW???"
The ropes snapped, and the weights began to strain at their ankles."Got any more... gimmicks...?" Blunt blurted.
"A real agent... uses what's at hand, remember?" Darkwing grunted, pulling his cape off with his beak and tossing it down onto the rising smoke. It caught fire and rose on the hot air to the sprinklers, which activated and extinguished the fire, drenching them. "I think I can get free..." Slowly the two agents twisted out of their water-loosened rope bonds and the weights dropped to the floor.
"Smashing job!" Derek exulted. "I misjudged you, Darkwing."
"No time for that, Blunty." Darkwing picked himself up off the floor. "We've got to stop that auction!!" He gritted his teeth, striking a pose. "Let's get DANGEROUS...." With that, he scurried for the door.
"Yeah!" Launchpad cheered from his spot, stuck in the sauna. "Let's do it to it! .... Uh, guys?"
Meanwhile, Phineas Sharp faced an impatient mob of villains. "Now, before we sell the list,I'd like to auction off some items from my illustrious career ...."
The crowd began to boo.
"And we won't get to the list until they're sold!" Sharp sang.
The boos ceased.
"That's better. Now, from the Kosher Deli Caper, we have Hershel's Cat......." He droned on as a workman pulled a suit of armor up to the stage. But it was no workman... it was Blunt in disguise. Darkwing peered cautiously out of the armor as Blunt wheeled the cart up to Horatio.
"Where do you want this?" He asked in a Cockney accent.
"Backstage I guess...."
Sharp picked up a milk carton. "And what do I hear for this, from the case of the Udder Disaster?" As he spoke, Darkwing grabbed the coveted list and snuck out of the room.
"Sell the list! Sell the list!" The crowd chanted.
Sharp glanced at the pile of money already at his feet. "Oh, very well, I will now commence bidding on the SHUSH list of ---" He gasped as he caught sight of the bare pedastal. "I'll let Horatio handle this." He dashed out of the room.
"We've got the list, let's split!" Darkwing cheered, waving it triumphantly. Suddenly a blast from a laser pistol severed the desk he was leaning on. Holding it, in the doorway, was none other than Sharp himself. "You'll never get away with this!!"
"Won't I?" He grinned, snatching the list from Darkwing. "Now if you'll excuse me, there are some very MEAN people outside waiting for their merchandise!"
He turned away, and swiftly, Blunt and Darkwing pulled up the rug from beneath his feet, then retreated into a closet.
"So." Phineas smirked, standing up and cocking his gun. "This is to be the end of Derek Blunt. Quivering in a closet with a costumed buffoon! Goodbye, Blunt." Cackling wickedly, he riddled the door with gunshots. "Gotcha." He smiled. "Make a movie out of that." With that, he gave the list a celebratory kiss and strode back out to the stage.
Slowly, the closet door swung open and Darkwing and Blunt poked their heads out of a hole in the floor. "He's gone." Darkwing smiled. "Pretty clever of you, using my other acid cufflink to eat through the floor like that!"
Blunt smiled - modestly, for once. "I suppose even the best secret agent needs a gimmick or two."
Meanwhile, Phineas doublechecked a stack of money as Hammerhead Hannigan, the winner of the auction, tapped his foot impatiently. "Well, everything seems to be in order." He finally remarked, handing the list to Hannigan. As they shook hands, Horatio carried the briefcase of money away. He didn't see Darkwing and Blunt until it was too late and they had snatched the cash from his hands. Phineas turned at the sudden noise, to see the two SHUSH agents leaning casually on the briefcase.
"But...." He stammered, as Blunt held up the REAL list and Darkwing pointed to it with a gigantic grin. "Then what does ---" He choked as Hammerhead Hannigan grasped him firmly by his throat.
"Bread, milk, eggs! Doesn't sound like no list of SHUSH agents to me! Sounds like a fake!"
Darkwing and Blunt grinned triumphantly. Winking at each other, they said in unison:
"Gotcha!"
As night fell, the two agents left the hotel, laughing. "Did you see Sharp's face when Hammerhead grabbed him?" Darkwing stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes, doing a passable imitation of the vulture.
Blunt laughed. "Yes, I must admit it's been a long time since I've had this much fun on a case."
"Aw, that's nothin!" Darkwing laughed.
"But all the same, I hope I wasn't too hard on you." Blunt frowned.
"No sweat." Darkwing shrugged. Then he froze in his tracks. "S... sweat.... uh oh." They exchanged glances. "LAUNCHPAD!"
The two of them raced to the spa and pried open the sauna.
"Launchpad!" Darkwing gasped. "Are you alright?"
Out walked Launchpad.... none the worse for wear, unless you considered the fact that he was only about three inches tall. "Oh, I'll be fine after a little vacation. I wonder if this hotel has reduced rates, heh heh!"
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