#and that energetic zoom on her clashing with that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frontproofmedia · 1 year

Text

How Abelina Sabrina went from Voice Acting to the Sweet Science

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

By Hector Franco

Follow @MrHector_Franco !function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs'); Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');

Published: September 30, 2023

Abelina Sabrina's Journey from Voice Acting to the Sweet Science

Not everyone who steps into a boxing ring always thought they would be there. Over the last two years, the creation of the Creator Clash, a social media influencer boxing event for charity, has allowed people from all walks of life to step into the squared circle.

The participants ranged from former WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment) wrestlers, podcasters, Twitch video game streamers, and professional chess players to YouTube sensations who focus on taking on extreme challenges like Michelle Khare.

On an off-chance opportunity, stepped in East Los Angeles native Abelina Sabrina Rios. She is better known to her audience as Abelina Sabrina or Sabrina to friends and family. Sabrina is a voice actor and YouTube star who often makes hilarious comedy-parody skits. The types of shows she has worked on revolve around the anime world, including Jo Jo's Bizarre Adventure, Sugar Pine 7, and Your Lie in April.

How she got started in voice acting wasn't overly elaborate, instead merely mimicking what most kids do on a Saturday morning in watching cartoons.

"When I was little, I would watch a lot of cartoons like any kid," Sabrina explained to Frontproof Media in an exclusive interview. "I thought, I like the way that sounds. So, I think that's why my voice is the way it is now because, as a kid, I would just mimic what I would hear on TV.

“In high school, I saw that this convention called Anime Expo was going to have open voiceover auditions hosted by a company called Bang Zoom Entertainment. I showed up and I auditioned, and they liked me. Ever since then, they call me back at random for auditions here and there."

In 2022, the first Creator Clash took place at the University of South Florida in Tampa in front of an infinitely energetic crowd that proved infectious to those who were there only out of curiosity. The combination of the audience and the sport of boxing ignited a desire to be a part of it somehow.

A poolside run-in with two of the creators of the Creator Clash, Ian "iDubbbz" Washburn and his significant other Anisa Jomha, kept Sabrina in their minds when thinking about the sequel to their social media boxing event.

"I attended the first Creator Clash as a guest, and it was just inspiring," Sabrina told Frontproof Media. "After the first event happened, I was hanging out at the pool, and Ian and Anisa were walking. I saw them, and we were chatting a little bit, and Anisa expressed that she wanted to include more female fights next year.

"Then, after everybody went home, I told her, 'Hey, if you have anybody in my height and weight range and if you need any more female fights, please, I want to throw my name in the ring. I would love to be considered."

In August of 2022, Sabrina would get the call for the second edition of the Creator Clash that was set to take place on April 15, 2023, at the Amalie Arena in Tampa, FL. Her opponent would be fellow Youtuber, Tik-Tok, and Twitch streamer Jaelaray.

How Abelina Sabrina went from Voice Acting to the Sweet Science

And while there is a level of excitement that hits you when you get the notice that you'll be a participant in an event that produced such a frenzied reaction, there is also a level of realism that becomes apparent. Sabrina didn't have much of an athletic background to speak of before heading into her first boxing match.

"I think prior, the most athletic thing that I've ever done was being Minnie Mouse at Disneyland," Sabrina said. "But that's just good cardio. I didn't left weights of anything."

Four years at Disneyland gave Sabrina experience being in front of a live audience, but it wouldn't prepare her for combat inside a boxing ring. For the East L.A. native, her physical foundation needed to be built from the ground up.

Given ample time to establish some kind of training regimen, Sarbina primarily trained under the tutelage of Grisha Todorov. Along with Todorov, Sabrina and many of the participants in the Creator Clash would train with three-time Golden Gloves champion Michael "Kwik" Flories, who would organize sparring sessions with fighters from his gym.

"My trainer is all the way in Woodland Hills and Tarzana," Sabrina said about her training. "His name is Grisha Todorov. He's a former champion from Bulgaria, a very different background, but that's who I spent most of my training with. Then, I had a personal trainer for strength and conditioning here in Glendale, where I'm now Bradley Randcourt. I was not athletic whatsoever. I've never done any sports at all. I did not work out at all. So they were building me from scratch.

"So what became my usual routine was three days a week, I would do boxing, and three days a week, I would do strength training nearby and then fight camp, which was about a month before the fight. I would still do three days a week of boxing, sometimes four days, but then also multiple sessions on that day."

In all sports, it's often touted that the physical and mental toll of constant training can be more challenging than the match or game you are preparing for. Boxing is one of those sports. It's been said that fights are usually won in the gym.

Reflecting on her entire experience from training to the day of the fight, a sparring session with a real professional boxer proved more daunting than anything she would come up against on fight night.

"Oddly enough, I was more scared when I had to spar with semi-pro boxer Nikkia Willaims," stated Sabrina. "It was my first sparring session with somebody else outside of my gym or my friend network. So I was very scared to box her. At least with my opponent for Creator Clash, Jaelaray, it would be her first time actually boxing, too. But when I had to box with this semi-pro female boxer, I was terrified.

"While we were sparring as soon as she hit me, she hit me harder than my coach. I started sobbing, but we kept sparring anyway. I made it three and a half rounds with her. Because I sparred with Nikkia, I faced that fear and did it anyway. Fighting with Jaelaray was scary, but I had faced scarier."

The scheduled five-round boxing exhibition match would be held between the two social media stars at a catchweight. Sabrina, who has a petite body type, usually walks around at 100 pounds, so she agreed to a catchweight of about 115 pounds for the fight with her opponent.

In combat sports, there are usually two battles—one that takes place in the ring and the other that takes place at the weight scale. Typically, the clash at the scale is one based on losing or cutting weight. But in Sabrina's case, she found one of the most challenging parts of training was putting on weight.

"Gaining weight," Sabrina expressed to Frontproof Media, as the hardest part of training for her. "Gaining weight, and gaining good weight because I wanted to put on 15 pounds of ideally mostly muscle. That's not what ended up happening. But it's really hard to gain weight when you're working out and running that much.

"So I had to put on 15 pounds for this fight. It was hard to keep that because I'm normally 100 or 105."

"If you don’t define yourself, the world is going to do it for you." -- Abelina Sabrina

The Day of the Fight

How to maneuver around distractions is something that every fighter has to learn to deal with. But, when your first time stepping into the squared circle is in an arena full of thousands of boisterous fans, the nerves can get the best of you. For Sabrina, all of the little things that are usually taken care of by members of a fighters team went wrong.

From having to get a newly fitting mouthpiece Fedexed to her, a pair of boxing gloves going missing to a Mariachi band that didn't seem like they were going to make it to the arena on time, all of the things that shouldn't be the focus added to fuel the anxiety and anxiousness of having to fight.

"My hands are getting wrapped and I can't contact anybody anymore because I can't use my phone," Sabrina said about her time in the locker room before the start of the fight. "So missing my mouthguard, missing gloves, missing mariachi, just all of the things that I didn't want to think about. It took alot of focus away from the fight."

Throughout the Creator Clash, several entrants had grandiose entrances that excited the live crowd—ranging from run-ins through the crowd to Pokemon theme songs that almost blew the roof off of the arena. It was put upon each individual participant to do something to stand out above the rest.

Deciding to take a more traditional approach, using her entrance to pay homage to her Mexican heritage and, in some ways, to the Mexican boxing community, Sabrina entered her bout against Jaelaray to a Mariachi band that got one of the loudest ovations of the night.

"I was fight number two, so I wanted my fight, at the very least, to be remembered out of all the people that were participating," Sabrina stated. "I was probably one of the ones who had a smaller platform. So I wanted to make people care about me and my fight, at least during my 15 minutes. I wanted to make it as entertaining for everybody as possible. I need to have that live mariachi.

"I wanted to channel boxers like Canelo, who make their walkout a fun spectacle, honoring their culture. That's what I was aiming for."

When one thinks of activities that would prepare somebody to box, sports like wrestling, track and field, and fencing come to mind. However, for Sabrina, her background working at Disneyland performing in front of a live crowd helped alleviate some of her nerves.

"The people aspect didn't freak me out at all," said Sabrina. "I think having a performing background really helped my walkout. I'm used to being surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of people."

The fight itself didn't end up playing out in Sabrina's favor, as the size difference between her and Jaelaray played a factor. Much to the crowd's delight, the two would trade blows in the middle of the ring, with each landing their share of right hands. Sabrina displayed her competitive nature throughout, as she immediately responded with a salvo of her own whenever she got hit.

After five rounds, Jaelaray was awarded with a unanimous decision victory. But, both competitors were given applause from the audience.

To succeed in boxing and not allow a moment to crush you mentally, you have to be able to control your emotions. Being emotionally intelligent enough not to allow yourself to become overwhelmed is what can separate you from failing. Taking control of the fear rather than letting it take the wheel is innate and can only be taught over time.

"I absolutely felt so much fear constantly," Sabrina confessed about her time in the ring. "I think because I worked so much on the mental aspect, I was terrified, but also, I was so happy to be there. I was so excited. I was smiling throughout most of the fight, and I was letting the fear fuel me.

"I was getting hit a lot, but I think I was doing good with rolling with the punches. I knew that it was not over yet and that I had to give my all until the very end."

For some participants, the experience of boxing steered them away from wanting to step in the ring for the rest of their lives. For others, it was like a rollercoaster that they couldn't wait to ride again.

Boxing is one of the most dangerous sports one can participate in. The Creator Clash was more about entertainment and having fun than seeing who was the best fighter. Still, everyone who stepped inside the ring gained a new level of respect and admiration for those who fight professionally.

"If I am invited to Creator Clash 3, I will 100% do it because as soon as I stepped out of the ring, all I wanted to do was go box again," Sabrina stated about her feelings after the fight. "With boxing and athletes in general, but especially boxing, you spend so much time training for what is only 10 or 15 minutes in a ring. You're putting so much on your body. I feel like it's selling your body. I've come to learn that most people would never step into a boxing ring. It makes me feel so proud to do it myself.

"I respect people who do choose to step into the ring because it's really hard and scary. Everyone,every single boxer, is scared to get in the ring, and we do it anyway."

There is a saying that the journey is more important than the destination. Boxing, in some respects, is a microcosm for the voyage of self-discovery that is life. When you step through those ropes, you are at your most vulnerable. It's a time when you can be exposed and a majority of the time, it's in front of a large group of people. But it can also bring out what you thought you never had.

Strength when you thought you were weak. Speed when you thought you were slow. And a smile when you thought there would be tears. It allows you to be in command of how you have always defined yourself. Who you see in the mirror is capable of more than you could have imagined.

"Some people have a certain idea of me at a glance, and they don't know me all that well," said Sabrina. "I felt like I had something to prove in this fight because I've learned that if you don't define yourself, the world is going to do it for you. I felt like this little bitty shadow for the longest time. But after Creator Clash 2, I did not feel like a shadow at all.

"I felt like my little moments in the light in the sun. I'm happy that I got to define myself."

(Featured Photo: Joseph Correa/Frontproof Media)

#HF #Creator Clash #Abelina Sabrina #Michelle Khare #iDubbbz

1 note · View note

yurimother · 5 years

Text

LGBTQ Game Review - Lingua Fleur: Lily

A significant part of my job is knowing the details of the goings-on in the world of yuri. It, therefore, shames me to admit that I almost missed out on the visual novel Lingua Fleur: Lily as I was completely unaware of it until Taiwanese studios Narrator and Storia, the game’s developers and publishers, messaged me. Thank the great goddess of yuri that they did, because I would have regretted missing this experience.

Lingua Fleur: Lily is a short kinetic visual novel set in a university told from the perspective of student Yuyi, the protagonist. Yuyi is a quiet and introverted student, hardly interacting with her classmates and having no close friends. Her isolated circumstances change when she is paired with the outgoing Yile, the deuteragonist of the story, during physical education. Slowly Yile beings to befriend Yuyi, helping her to come out of her shell and be truthful about her identity and difficult past.

As previously stated, Yuyi is extremely reserved and often anxious. However, she is also quick to anger, often getting short during Yile’s antics. This can make her seems stern and unlikable at moments but overall she is very realistically written. As the story progresses these moments mostly fade out and she becomes more likable and friendly while maintaining to her quiet and anxious demeanor. Her narration is the most enjoyable part of her character, as it gives insight into her feelings and her discomfort with certain situations, helping her to feel human.

In every way, Yile is the opposite of Yuyi. While the ladder is restrained and apprehensive, Yile has no such inhibitions. She is excitable and bubbly, often eagerly blurting out the first thought that comes into her mind without regard for how it makes others (specifically Yuyi) feel. This is never really treated for laughs, as this game is not in any way a comedy, but rather used to contrast Yuyi, helping develop her character by reflecting and responding to Yile’s actions. Unfortunately, most of the time Yile too easily falls into the stereotype of the naive and energetic girl.

There are however some lovely moments when Yile breaks out of this stereotype, particularly when she or Yuyi is more emotionally vulnerable. For example, at the beginning of the game, Yuyi gets slightly during physical education and runs away. Yile chases after her to comfort and care for the reluctant Yuyi. It is a touching moment that really serves to establish the dynamics between the characters.

The game is complete with full Chinese voice acting. Both lead actresses do a decent enough job, shining especially during the quieter and more somber moments (which are plentiful). The louder moments of joy or anger are a struggle for them, the actress behind Yuyi does not carry enough vocal power for the scenes in which she yells (usually at Yile) and Yile’s tends to ascend into a grating shriek. I will give credit to the game for voicing even minor character that speaks only a few lines as well as the girls though. Overall, the voice acting added more to the game than it detracted but there is definite room for improvement.

Lingua Fleur is not a story of romance or attraction but rather of self-growth and healing. For me, this is a welcome change. It is not a happy story nor an overly sad cry-fest, but rather a very grounded and bittersweet narrative. Yuyi struggles to admit her identity (as a lesbian) and the ways in which this affects here are clearly shown and communicated in all scenes effectively.

The more emotional scenes are powerful and my favorite parts of the game. Thanks to not only a solid script but because they are so realistic and relatable. Yuyi’s struggles to articulate her identity to Yile will easily resonate with experiences of queer readers. I will not spoil the ending but it appropriately matches the somber tone of the story and is simultaneously hopeful and saddening.

I did have a few issues with the game. Some of these complaints are small, a few typos, a few places where the word choice could have been a bit better (is my English teacher side showing?). I also found what I can only assume to have been a mistake due to negligence where name cards such as “female student” and “male student” were still written in Chinese rather than being translated like the others. Additionally, while the English translation is mostly excellent there were a few terms that did not work as a direct translation into the language, such as “Sis Tutor.”

This character, Sis Tutor, is actually part of my biggest complaint. She and Yuyi share a difficult past together which is hinted at but not explicitly stated and explained until the final act of the game. This trope would be fine if it was not for the fact the story is told through Yuyi’s perspective and we hear her thoughts! This made the hints about her past unbearable and annoying. When you show the thoughts of the character with a hidden pass it does not work! It breaks immersion, as one can clearly see the writers’ attempt to contort the narrative of human thoughts as they clumsily build suspense to the big reveal. And it is a good (if obvious) reveal too, giving context to the actions of Yuyi, there is no need for it to be so hamfistedly teased.

Lingua Fleur: Lily’s CG artwork has a nice soft pastel look to it, with a serene hand-drawn quality to them. The artist was easily able to transfer the personality of the characters and the emotion of the script into the CG artwork, making them add to the experience. There is even one simple but stylistic animation. However, the CGs are inconsistent, with some being of clearly higher quality than others. Additionally, some of the choices for the CGs placement are questionable. Parts of the story were crying out for a nice piece of accompanying art but resources were put into other scenes which frankly did not need them.

The character sprite’s share soft design of the CGs but often, unfortunately, have an unpolished look to them. They also clash horribly against some of the backgrounds, leading to a clear cutout effect that regularly took me out of the experience. Their design, however, is quite nice, especially Yile, who is downright adorable. There is also some great employment of lateral movement and strategic zooming on characters, some of the best I have ever seen, and certainly, the most fluid, helping to illustrate the story.

The soundtrack of Lingua Fleur proves that a score does not have to be bombastic and overly complex to be successful. Indeed, the music was one of the highlights of my experience. Oli Jan and Sorane created twelve original tracks for the visual novel each of which I adored as I played through. Often they employ just a simple melody and maybe a few delicate strings or woodwinds, creating an excellent somber and soft backdrop that perfectly complimented the game. I was greatly enjoying it right up until the finale when I fell in love.

During the game’s climax the track ‘La Robe’ plays and MY GOD!! I was struck dumb by how perfect the track was, I was at a loss for words (a rare occurrence I can assure you). It keeps the same simple style as the rest of the soundtrack but was just… stupendous. The song is triumphant, delicate, intricate, and hopeful. The victorious crescendo reached its peak at the perfect point in the story I swear I applauded. I could easily extend this review another few paragraphs filled with nothing but adjectives about this song. If you do not get the game for the love of all things gay in this world at least give the soundtrack a listen! It is a whirlwind of emotions that perfectly encapsulates the relief and sorrow felt by Yuyi in the bittersweet conclusion. It is a special thing for a piece to convey so much.

Lingua Fleur: Lily is an imperfect but meaningful journey. It does not conform to the genre standers of destined lovers and soulmates but is rather a gentle and ordinary story of healing, grief, and friendship. While it lacks artistic polish and jaw-dropping prose the emotion and humanism of the game reverberate within me. Lingua Fleur is a lovely, simple, and bittersweet experience.

I also appreciate that Narrator and Storia have promised new content for the game in the form of DLC. Lingua Fleur: Lily is available now on Steam in English and Chinese.

Ratings: Story �� 7 Characters – 6 Art – 4 Voice – 6 Music – 10 LGBTQ – 5 Lewdness – 0 Final – 6

Review copy provided by Narrator and STORIA

Help create yuri and LGBTQ+ content, news, and reviews by supporting on the YuriMother Patreon

#yuri #visual novel #vn #lgbtq #lgbtq+#reviews #queer #gay #video game #game #lgbt #lesbian #lingua Fleur lily #girls love #gl #wlw #gaming

871 notes · View notes

clubcreative · 4 years

Text

Writing in Comic+Illustration

“A picture is worth a thousand words.” I have to admit that’s a pretty cliche starter, but it does help define what writing means in the art community.

One way to define “writing” is to call it a genre.

Genre 101

Before I continue, I want to make sure that you understand what I mean by genre. When I talk about genre I am simply referring to various forms something comes in. For music its different sounds like the genre of jazz or pop. In writing, a genre is a book or a shopping list. Hopefully that clears things up!

When I first began researching various writing genres in the art community I was confused because I thought I was looking for actual written texts like a research paper. Yes, there are the conventional forms of written genre within the art community like a blog, but turns out a genre in the art community simply refers to the art we create!

“I thought art didn’t have writing?”

Comics, manga, anime, ads, posters- those are all forms of genre in the art world. If you are still confused then just think about the different forms that you often see art as.

In our community, the purpose of these different genres vary between the mediums.

Some are for insiders (people who are artists themselves) some genres cater towards outsiders (people who are not artists, but consume and enjoy art).

As an artist, our main focus is to entertain others with the works of art we create. Because the nature of our job focuses on pleasing others, most genres of art are created to be consumed by outsiders.

To illustrate that let’s compare two different kinds of art projects.

Genre 1: Comic Book

SnotGirl by Bryan Lee O’Mallley/Leslie Hung

Who is it for?

Comic books come in various styles and not just what people typically think like the Marvel comics.

A comic book is written in order to entertain an outsider of the art community. That is not to say that artists do not enjoy comics as well, in fact I’ve included one of my favorites as the example!

Sometimes comics are a single page with multiple panels, and they can span multiple pages and volumes. Snot girl, for example, is currently on its 14th issue!

A comic is a very commonly produced genre. Typically, someone who writes a comic has multiple reasons to do so. Most of the artists have their own story to tell. They have created their own characters, their own world, and have a vision or lesson they want others to see as well.

What’s so special about it?

What’s great about a comic is that there is no right way to do it. Comic artists are tasked with balancing multiple parts of their project. They have to consider:

- the organization of the dialogue

-how they are going to lay out the images/ what geometric shapes the panels will be

-inclusion of sound effects

Don’t forget the art itself! The creator has to make sure they are:

- cohesive

-complete and dynamic illustrations

- they do not clash with the already established panel placement

-establish the tone and mood through colors and lighting

When Less = More

Comic books have the daunting task of developing their writing through narration and dialogue. Write too much and the reading becomes heavy and write too little and the author risks confusion.

Imagine condensing an entire essay into dialogue between characters with limited narration. Writing in comics is an art in-and-of itself.

While the writer of a comic and also be the artist, this isn’t a set rule. Sometimes the author and the illustrator are two separate people or teams!

SnotGirl as a comic book case study:

Volume 1, SnotGirl

Analyzing structure

The left page is split into three rectangles and the right page is broken down into multiple squares beside a near full body illustration of the main character, Lottie.

Lottie lives her life as an Instagram model and fashion influencer. The left page introduces us to the real Lottie, a side of her that is disgusting and unkept, snot drizzling out of her nose constantly. The right page shows her in public maintaining an idealized and aesthetic persona.

if you break a page into three sections that means more art needs to go into a single panel. In the middle rectangle her whole body is shown and the bottom panel is largely zoomed into her face. It’s nearly claustrophobic, showing Lottie’s overwhelming insecurities and having the reader up-close to a side of Lottie she wishes to ignore.

On the left page, the dialogue reads as frantic, narcissistic, Lottie is trying to convince herself that she doesn’t feel ugly and that she’s more superior than others.

On the right the multiple squares include more dialogue, space around Lottie, and more zoomed-out compositions (For example, you can see Lottie all the way down to her chest at least four times).

The squares reflect Lottie’s insecurities but they are the problems of her perfect persona: boy troubles, getting coffee, and Instagram profiles. There’s more writing on this page to reflect her more superficial ravings.

Analyzing illustration

Art wise, on the left the colors are grey, dark green or blue, and more cool-toned. In color theory cool tones portray sadder, more serious moods.

The right page which is vibrant and warm-toned, which is supposed to be energetic. If I were to ask you, you might be more attracted to the right side and its happier atmosphere.

These two pages illustrate how color, composition, and organization differ widely to emphasize how the artist wants the reader to feel and understand about the story.

Sounds complicated doesn’t it? The genre of comic books may be common, but it takes a lot of working, planning, and dedication.

Genre #2: Video Game Illustration

Illustration in game

illustration in full

Art by ZAVIR

Aren’t games 3D though?

I know that when most people think about video games the models and backgrounds are in 3-D. Think of Red Dead Redemption 2. While most mainstream games are produced that way, there are still many games who use illustrations like PC click-and-point games, mobile games, and other games use illustration for character sprites. The example I’ve included is from my favorite mobile rhythm game, Cytus II.

For those who don’t play Cytus II, the game revolves around different in-universe musicians who have different songs which the player taps the beat to. For each playable song there is an illustration. (Here’s a link to the hardest song in the game! “Floor is Lava”)

What’s the point of the art?

Most video game illustrators work in backgrounds or character sprites. The illustrations can be single items as well, clarifying items that a character may have picked up in game.

However, to stay relevant to my example I will mainly focus on the aspects of this particular video game illustration.

Cytus II as a case study:

The illustrations in Cytus 2 are meant to:

create further diversity between the different songs

provide the song with a visual outside of the beatmap

By providing the song Extinguisher by Lixound with artwork, it’s not only visually pleasing but adds memorability to the song. People who are fans of the game can now draw fanart of the song.

Differences from comics

there is very little text.

The story or context has to be told by the artist in composition, character pose, and other artistic choices like lighting or colors.

Particularly in Cytus 2, the story the artist tries to tell is set by the sound and “vibe” of the song.

“Extinguisher”, an EDM song, has fast beats and dubstep like qualities as well as a robotic vocal track. It’s chaotic and fast, which could explain why the artist interpreted explosions and a figure that looks like an anarchist.

Why Different Genres Exist: Comics vs Video Game Art

Imagine if a comic was told through dialogue-less illustrations and imagine if video games had backgrounds and illustrations that were formatted like comics.

Visual chaos would ensue. Clashing dialogue, images, colors, and a lack of clarity for what the viewer should be focusing on.

Thank goodness for the different genres of illustration, huh?

1 note · View note

peachhoneii · 6 years

Text

The Way the Cookie Crumbles

Rating: K+ Fandom: DuckTales 2017 Shipping: None (for now) A/N: I wanted a duck dad fist fight, and by George, I was going to get it. Tagging: @donaldtheduckdad, @robinine-blog, @spacedpanini (again for reading through all my ramblings) Summary: It was an unspoken rule within the Woodchucks to never, ever sell their annual popcorn bags on Chickadee cookies territory. Huey wisely adhered to this rule, preventing catastrophe year after year, but the JWG didn't tell him what to do when Chickadee ranks invaded Woodchuck popcorn territory.

Fortunately for Huey, his Uncle Donald wasn’t fond of rules in the first place.

When Huey initially requested to join the Junior Woodchucks, Donald saw no problem. Although he’d been barred from ever joining -- something about his temper, the counselors said, he knew it was impossible to deny Huey something he truly wanted. Of his boys, Huey asked the least.

Besides, Donald reasoned, the Junior Woodchucks’ reputation was foremost the most reputable reputation in all of Duckburg. They went to the recreational center to sign the registration forms. He dragged the pen over the signature lines, pointedly ignoring the counselor’s wary stare. Huey bounced eagerly at his side, clutching the end of his shirt as they returned to the desk, and by the end of the day, Huey was a bonafide Junior Woodchuck.

This decision was one of Donald's best. His boys were resourceful in their unique ways, but there was something about the JW that set Huey apart. He’d always been responsible, energetic, and observant.

The JW cultivated those traits, honing them to perfection, and sharpening them to levels that made Donald’s head spin. Huey’s resourcefulness relieved Donald, but the questions around the houseboat tumbled his brain. Did you know in 1895...Your great-grandfather founded the ….on and on, he went, but Donald didn’t have the heart to stop him.

Still, the Woodchucks was a good trade. Donald occasionally imagined what life would be like had he had a girl around the house, a little girl running up and down the halls, and shivered. She’d wear the traditional Chickadee uniform with its sash and multitudinous badges.

Worse, they’d have to sell cookies.

Coworkers, current and former, rushed around the city in search of potential buyers. Each wanted to sell more than the other. And why? Fifty boxes sold won their little chickadee a Rockerduck Powerwheel Jeep. Seventy-five boxes won them a trip to the Glomgold Inc. Tour - contract applied. One hundred boxes won a trip to Ollie land and so forth.

From what Donald was told, the amount of cookies sold provided a substantial amount of prestige in the organization. Awards were given at the end of the year, made from actual gold.

“Gertie Greylag wanted little girls to be equally efficient to little boys,” one parent elaborated during a monetary exchange.

This was preceded by a no holds barreled brawl. Another parent smashed through a previous transaction attempt just as Donald was reaching for the peanut butter tagalogs. He saw the parent’s head make an almost perfect 90 degree turn, but they bounced back quickly, flattening their hands on the ground and reaching their legs around the attacker’s neck.

“Buy my little girl’s peanut butter tagalogs! They’re 20% sweeter!”

“Impossible! You can’t tamper with the boxes, and he was mine first!”

Donald wisely tossed the exact amount of cash on the battling parents and grabbed a box of peanut butter tagalogs. A crowd formed a tight ring around them, and he wanted to disappear before the cops rolled in.

He learned early on it was equally dangerous to buy a box of cookies despite being easier than selling it.

Schools held annual fundraisers, but they could never match the vindictive competitiveness that was Little Chickadee cookie sales held from January 1 to the middle of March.

The time period relieved Donald of any responsibility. When popcorn season started on March 12, he and Huey visited the local supermarket to set up shop with Huey’s troop. Their sales weren’t high, but the cash intake was accept for Junior Woodchucks.

Separating the seasons and operating on a different item circumvented any potential clashes that could arise from the long standing rivalry between Woodchuck and Chickadee.

Their experience proved the system efficient.

“Where do you want to set up the table, Troop Leader Wolff?”

“Ah. Put it near the doors, but not in front of the doors.” A jovial, black wolf, Robert “Bob” Wolff grabbed the table cloths, “And set out the flavor display. We want them to know their options.”

Donald rolled into the parking lot with healthy drinks and snacks. He’d done this for six years now, and each year was better than the last. Saturday was the best day to sell popcorn.

The day of relaxation and errand running; adults rarely snapped at the children for their children hungered for tasty caramel corn, kettle corn, unbelievable butter corn, and the ever popular dark and white chocolate drizzle. The boys stacked the bags and display on the table, taking their seats behind them, and chattered amongst themselves.

“We can get maybe twenty bags, 22 tops.”

“I was hoping for thirty.”

Huey drummed his fingers on the table, “I think we may get 25. We may not earn our Life of a Salesman badge, but we won’t have to worry about not getting recognized for our efforts.”

Water precipitated on the ice chests propped along the supermarket wall with sandwiches and beverages stuffed inside. Donald was wiping his forehead when he saw the minivan zoom into the parking lot. A shiny cultured shade, its screeching stop grabbed everyone’s attention.

A carmine pump stepped out of the car door, and a voice unlike any other rang sharply, “Hurry girls! We don’t have all day. Set up over there, go, go.”

Donald’s visual acuity of 20/10 and higher was required to dissect the flurry of sandaled and tennis-shoe clad feet. Girls marched out of the minivan on all sides. In their hands were oversized paper brown bags they lifted without strain while the woman click-clacked to the trunk. A table and its cloth she stuffed underneath her arm and toted around until she found the spot she wanted -- the right side of the automatic doors to their left.

The girls huddled the brown bags behind the able as the woman set the table cloth on the table. Bright, orange lilies decorated the grassy green backdrop of the cloth. She pulled display after display onto the table, reaching quickly to snatch another out of the bag closest to her.

Cookie boxes followed and were arranged in punctilious formation; thin mints at the top, samoa/caramel delites and peanut butter patties/tagalongs in the middle, and do-si-do/peanut butter sandwiches and shortbread trefoils were the foundation. She did the same with the less popular flavors on the other side of the table; assuming someone would be interested for an oddity or two, preferably five.

As this storm descended upon them, Donald watched in ominous silence. There was something familiar about the woman; something he could not pinpoint his finger on. Was it her blond hair? No. Or her black feathers? No. Her distinct lisp; pronounced with every dribble of spit that splattered off her tongue struck him familiarly.

Folded chairs were unfolded, and metal scratching on concrete grated their ears. Be it familiar or strangely coincidental, they knew what was about to come.

“Right after twelve, good work!” She snapped her fingers, “And you said we wouldn’t make it.”

A grey rabbit whose brunette hair was plaited with lavender ribbons spoke, “You were driving three times the speed limit.”

“Yes, but we arrived before twelve.”

“Dad isn’t gonna be happy if you get another speeding ticket.”

“He won’t know that I’ve gotten one.” She glared at the girls, “And don’t tell your parents.”

The violet tinted skunk step forward, “Troop Leader you said we could get some snacks.” The woman gasped lightly and fished through her clutch purse, revealing a twinkling platinum credit card.

“Does Dad know you have that?”

“I was given strict instructions to use this card for your benefit, little miss.” She gave the skunk the card, “Get healthy snacks, y’hear me? We may be selling cookies, but we don’t need to raise our blood sugar levels.”

The grey rabbit stared at him, shook her head, and followed the girls into the supermarket, “You really are something.”

“And you’re wasting time, dearie.”

With a frown, she walked backward, revealing a brown wallet she held in her hand. The woman gasped as the girl giggled, running after her friends as the automatic doors closed, reflecting her cheeky expression.

“You’re despicable.” She gritted her teeth, “You are despicable, Babs Bunny,” as an afterthought, “and don’t forget to get my bottled tea!”

Holding a second ice cooler, he observed the woman. Her blonde hair - no, synthetic, a wig, brushed softly against the wind. Black feather glistened under the sun, indicating a special oil moisturizer product. He glanced at Huey’s white feathers. He winced. Light reflected and bounced straight into his eyes. Stepping back, he shield his eyes to see where the line formed and spotted her neck.

What he thought was the traditional white neck line of the American black duck was something brighter, more expensive than he originally thought. A pearl necklace.

“What would the girls do without me?” She contemplated aloud, accent thick with a well articulated lisp, “I need to make sure we sell enough to beat that loud mouth chicken.”

No. Donald’s chest palpitated. No. What did it matter that the extremely low chances were adjacent to impossibility? They were adjacent, not actually impossible.

It was the lisp. Donald hadn’t pushed it back as much as he allowed it to slip away. It’d been a relic of a former life, set aside for something more. He refused to believe the truth in the moment. There was a brief span of absolute nothingness in Donald’s brain before he started to move, started to open his mouth, and questions were spat out with demands trailing quickly behind.

Huey shouted his name in confusion. Wolff tried to pull his arm. One was too quiet, and the other, too slow.

She - he raised his head, and his brow arched contemplatively. Defiance crossed over his expression and chest; his high heel pump tapped impatiently.

Donald stood in front him with clenched fists, having abandoned the ice cooler near the table, and gritted his teeth.

“Daffy Duck.”

“You have grey feathers.”

Donald bristled, “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Spittle popped off his bill, “We’re selling cookies.”

“This is our turf.”

“Your turf?” Daffy scoffed, “This is the Duckburg Supermarket. It is open to all Chickadee and Woodchucks, as long as the required paperwork is signed, and bad for you, I have my sales permit!”

His bill twitched, “We were here first!”

“So?” Daffy straightened one of the displays, and waved flirtatiously at an approaching couple, “Our Chickadee cookies are absolutely delectable. They won’t crack your teeth like those popcorn kernels.”

“You can shove your cookies right up your -,”

“Uncle Donald?”

Spinning around Huey’s pensive expression locked him. He searched from one bill to the other, unasked questions ready to shoot at him, and Donald gulped. Daffy clicked his tongue and returned to the table.

At a loss for words, the question hung precariously between them. Donald thought of what he could say, of what was suitable for a twelve year old boy. He readied the response, whatever its content, when the automatic doors slid open.

“This...this person...is...an…”

“Daffy, we’ve talked about this.”

The grey rabbit and other girls came behind. She dropped the bag of bananas, apples, kiwis, and cans of coconut milk on the table; crossing her arms, she glared irritably at them, “Dad said if you get us banned from another supermarket you’ll be taken off as troop leader.”

Daffy’s arrogance dwindled briefly, “Children are meant to be seen, not heard!”

“We’re selling cookies. We’re gonna have to talk and be seen.”

Noticing their presence, the girl offered her hand to Donald and Huey.

“Sorry, my name’s Babs Bunny.” She glanced at Daffy, “And this is our troop leader.”

Huey gripped her hand back, “Um, aren’t there male troop leaders?”

“Listen kid, when you look me, you want to look your absolute best.” He popped a heel up, “And I like the height the heels give me.”

Donald’s glare dissipated at Babs, “So, you’re here to sell cookies?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, “We got banned from Acme Acres Supermarket,” she cut Daffy’s gasp off with a sharp glare, “we thought we could sell a little in Duckburg, but we forgot popcorn season started today.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“We don’t?”

Huey shook his head, “We don’t have a lot of bags in the first place, and this is a great hour to sell.”

“Wait, like, you guys have popcorn?” A blond-haired loon pushed through, “Like actual popcorn, please tell me you’ve got chocolatey caramel crunch!”

“Shirley!”

“Like Daffy, it isn’t for me. Pops and Grams love ‘em!” She pulled out a twenty, “I’ll take four bags.”

“Four?”

“Come on, like two bags would keep ‘em happy.” She rolled her eyes and ran to the table where Troop Leader Wolff and the others applauded their first customer of the day.

“Do you think they have the cheese flavor collection?”

“Yeah, we set up a few minutes ago.”

“Merci beaucoup, beau canard!” Hugging him fiercely, the violet skunk raced after Shirley, and was soon followed by the rest, having finished their preparations. Dollar bills and change jingled in their pockets.

“You’re telling me you could’ve bought your own snacks?” Daffy said, “Why did we have to use the card?”

“Because none of us wanted to spend our money on things we knew Dad was gonna buy us, plus, we knew you’d sneak the card.”

Daffy glared and watched as Babs walked to the table.

“So, Huey, do you have classic caramel and unbelievable butter?”

“And who are you buying for?”

“Dad and Buster love unbelievable butter.”

“Oh, right.” His shoulders shot, “And don’t forget my classic caramel!”

“Sure, Daffy.” She smiled at Huey, “I’d like to see your order arrangement.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! The organization is so specific. It’d really help.”

Like their friends, they too went to the table, leaving the adults to themselves.

“I destroyed the dairy aisle.”

“Wait, what?”

Daffy sniffed, shrugging his shoulders, “And the bread aisle, and the fruits, vegetables, yeah, I destroyed 70% of the supermarket.”

“How?” This was Daffy. This was the little, black duck who refused to follow social norms and other rules of propriety, “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but how?”

Crossing his arms, he looked away, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You got into a fight with another parent, didn’t you?”

“No one insults my sweet, darling Babs.” He glanced where she and Huey munched on popcorn, “She’s the light of my life.”

“Doesn’t she have a brother?”

“Buster is my joy. Babs is my pride,” he clarified.

“Wait, I thought she was the light?”

“That’s what I said, my light and joy.”

“Buster is your joy.”

“Who asked you?”

Donald’s eye twitched, and on the right side of his head a headache started to throb.

The last time they’d seen each other, Donald succeeded in destroying Daffy’s white grand piano. In retaliation, Daffy smeared what Donald wanted to believe was mud across his piano keys, as well as booby-trapping the lid.

His fury knew no bounds.

Daffy’s laugh followed him right to the enlistment office.

“Uncle Donald?” Huey ran to them, “Hey, Uncle Donald!”

“Huh, yeah?”

“The Woodchucks and I discussed it.” He beamed brightly at him, “Troop Leader Wolff said we could buy some of the Chickadee cookies.”

“I want ten boxes of Do-si-dos!” Troop Leader Wolff opened his wallet, “And five thin mints, my husband loves ‘em.”

Daffy’s and Donald’s tense glares didn’t go unnoticed.

The long-standing feud between Chickadee and Woodchuck was longstanding. Huey researched the subject vigilantly, spending late hours at the local library when the official Woodchuck archives failed to offer the information he sought. Clinton Coot and Gertie Greylag were close friends, having grown up as next door neighbors, and chose to nurture a healthy relationship between Woodchuck and Chickadee.

Huey theorized the rivalry started after Greylag’s death, ten months after Coot’s, where the grieving members lashed out at each other. It was only then did their healthy, friendly relationship began to weaken.

His research didn’t produce any instances of disaster on one side or another. The rivalry was nothing more than a myth, but this didn’t stop the higher ups for making the tactful decision to maintain a respectable distance during cookie season.

Having purchased four boxes of Chickadee smores, Huey sat along the wall, breaking his personal vow to not snack before his proper lunch.

“What’s Daffy? Your dad’s roommate?” Marshmallow, chocolate, and graham-cracker was mushed together in crunchy delight, Huey stared at Uncle Donald and Daffy, engrossed in unstimulating conversation, “He really knows how to walk in those heels.”

“He’s more than my dad’s roommate.” She sipped her strawberry soda, “He’s my dad’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? You said he has a girlfriend.”

“He does.” Babs grinned, “He has a boyfriend and a girlfriend.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s simple.” She leaned on the wall and let the soda take hold, “Dad goes out with Lola every now and then, she sleeps over. Daffy goes out with Tina every now and then, and sometimes, he stays at her apartment. But we have family dinner, and Dad and Daffy sleep together sometimes.”

All new and different, Huey looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what she was telling him, but she spoke with such normalcy that he couldn’t think of doubting her.

“How’d they meet?”

She shrugged, “The post office. It’s been six years now, and I like it. Buster was already living with us, so it was like we found the last piece to the puzzle...or the last piece found us,” she chuckled, “he said he was crashing but just ended up mooching off Dad. But it’s nice. Dad loves him, and I know he loves us.”

Huey bit into another smore, “Uncle Donald hasn’t dated. I don’t think he’s ever dated.”

“Aw, well, I thought the same about Dad, but he and Mom got along enough to make me.”

“How?”

“They weren't married.” Babs explained, “I think they grew up in the same Brooklyn neighborhood.”

“Do you get to see your mom often?”

“She’s a flight attendant, but she sends us tons of souvenirs and photos.” She showed him her phone, “She passed over Ithaquack.”

He checked the photo and grimaced, “Yeah, that’s Zeus.”

“You’ve met him?”

“My family visited Ithaquack,” visited being a loose term. “We met Zeus and Storkules.”

“Is he as big of a jerk as he is in the myths?”

“Yep, pretty much. Uncle Scrooge beat him at every competition, but then we beat Storkules, who’s my uncle’s best friend.”

Huey stared back at Donald and Daffy. They didn’t appear angry anymore although Uncle Donald’s fists were still partially clenched, and Mr. Daffy’s arms were still crossed against his nonexistent bosom.

“I think they know each other,” Babs said.

“I think so too.”

She slid her phone into her back pocket, “Daffy used to play piano at the Ink & Paint Club.”

“What’s the Ink & Paint Club?”

“I dunno. Dad gave him the look, so he didn’t tell me the rest.”

Huey pulled back, staring at Uncle Donald and Daffy. Irritation tip toed around their bills and the corner of their eyes, and Huey dug for his JWG.

“Huh. Always wanted to see one up close.” Babs got out her LCG, “It’s dense material, ain’t it?”

He flipped through the pages, “Right here,” tapping under the bold print, “the Ink & Paint Club is a legendary Hollywood nightclub known for its numerous celebrity patrons and famous, occasionally infamous performances.”

“One of the most infamous performances was Looney Sailing Piano Duel.” Babs read the article in her LCG, “Known for its merrie melodies these piano duels were regularly performed with vulgar violence and obscenity. The last act resulted in both performers being hooked off the stage, which was how all performances ended.”

“It doesn’t identify the performers.”

Babs shrugged, “Daffy can be obscenely violent, and stupid. He didn’t mention a partner though.”

“The JWG says the last performance included,” reading on he twitched in disgust, “a booby-trapped upright piano. One of the performers was thrown under a grand piano lid, with the top smashing down on them.”

“Both performers were dragged off stage after the booby-trapped piano exploded, destroying the stage, but leaving the audience roaring with applause.”

“It sounds crazy,” Huey closed the book.

“It sounds fun.” Babs wondered aloud, “I don’t see why Dad cut Daffy off.”

"Mr. Duck!”

Mr. Duck, the black feathered one, clutched the underside of his bill in pain. He’d fallen backwards. His precious pumps clicked and snapped in two on the way down. He didn’t stare up at Mr. Duck, the white feathered one, in shock or even disappointment. A slow, wicked curve took hold of his bill, and he sneered, twisting his delicate hands into fists.

“You do know this means war,” he spat.

“Bring it, bub.”

Mr. Duck, the black feathered one, wrapped his hand firmly around Mr. Duck’s throat, and threw him to the ground, punching him right in the eye. The white feathered Mr. Duck shouted in pain, clutched his wounded eye, and rolled on the ground as they scuffle progressed.

“Oh no,” Babs stood and whistled, “come on girls, you know the routine!”

“Wait, Babs!”

But the girls knew what to do, grabbing the tables and bags, they ran to the minivan and tossed them inside. Mr. Wolff ran to separate them, but they were too fast, too strong for the hot-headed ducks. A small crowd formed around the fighting drakes, and Babs ran back, hissing at Huey.

“Take off your badges and hat!”

“But why?”

“Ya’ want those people to know it’s a Woodchuck - Chickadee brawl?” Glaring at him as if it was the most obvious thing, she ran to the tussling ducks holding a small device in her right hand.

Huey was about to ask what she was doing when Shirley threw him a pair of ear plugs. She motioned quickly for him to put them in, and he did without question. He was about to ask what she was doing when she blew into the whistle, and the most annoying, screeching sound came out.

But Huey was deaf to this sound. He watched as Donald and Daffy clutched their ears in pain, curling on the pavement, and the observers who were also ducks ran off in shock and horror.

“Sufferin’ succotash!”

“Turn it off! Turn it off!”

Her breath carried for thirty seconds. Lowering the whistle, she glared and pointed to the minivan, “Get. In. The. Van. Now.”

“But -,”

“I said now!”

Mr. Duck looked back at Mr. Duck and saw the amazed, amused stares beholding them. He grabbed his broken pumps and scurried to the minivan. Huey didn’t get to say goodbye or even wave goodbye before the minivan burnt rubber out of the parking lot, and out of the city.

“Uncle Donald?”

He lied on his back, arm covering his eye, “Yeah, Huey?”

“Are you...are you okay?” He moved Uncle Donald’s arm and winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no.” The crowd started to disperse, suddenly bored with the weak conclusion, “You may want to put a steak on that eye though.”

Donald groaned, covering his darkened eye again.

The drive back to the mansion was uneventful. Fortunately, the authorities were not notified, and the Woodchucks grabbed their belongings and returned home. Troop Leader Wolff was amazed. He’d heard of Donald Duck’s temper, but hadn’t experienced the full length of it. As he said, as long as no actual harm was done, there was no need to worry.

“Let's not make a repeat of this, okay, Donald?”

“Sure, pal.”

The drive back to the mansion was uneventful. Huey replayed each event in his head, trying to spot the actual moment his uncle’s anger was ignited, but the more he replayed, the harder it became. The second Mr. Duck appeared something was off about Uncle Donald. He didn’t restrain his obvious dislike for the man; it was impossible for him to completely conceal his dislike for him. Huey liked to think he had given it a try for his sake.

He sighed.

“Sorry.”

“Huh?”

Uncle Donald gazed into the rearview mirror, “I’m sorry for ruining the popcorn sale.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Uncle Donald.”

He gave him a look.

Huey laughed, “No seriously, you didn’t. Some folks bought the last of the popcorn to watch the fight, so you helped us out.”

“Great.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Huey fidgeted in the backseat. Along with the fight, the Ink & Paint Club cropped in his head. His uncle didn’t discuss much about himself. Huey knew better to ask a direct question about his uncle’s past. He might not have looked the part, but Donald Duck was notorious for evading difficult questions.

But still, Huey knew he had to try.

“Did you know Mr. Duck used to play piano?”

“Huh, you don’t say.”

“Babs talked about him.” He drummed his fingers on the faded cushion, “He’s her dad’s boyfriend, and he used to work at this club he told her about.”

“Oh did he now?”

“Yeah, he didn’t tell her too much, but she said it was the Ink & Paint Club.”

He made a right. His grip tightened around the wheel, “Ink & Paint Club, never heard of it.”

Huey swallowed his gasp. Uncle Donald never lied, except for the time he told them about the potty fairy; Huey knew what his uncle did with their waste. He was horrified.

It wasn’t his place to ask. Although his uncle’s tone didn’t end the discussion, Huey sensed this was the end, and he looked through the window as they drew near to the manor.

He wasn’t upset. Just a little disappointed.

It was then his gaze flickered to the ice cooler, and widened.

An excited grin punctured his disappointment.

Louie was elated to have his phone returned to him. He asked no questions when his brother went upstairs to wash up for dinner, ready to resume Ottomon’s Empire season two. He didn’t check the contacts, the call log, or even the browsing history. Of his brothers, Huey was the one he didn’t have to worry over. His phone was returned perfectly intact, no cracks or smudges; it even smelled of fresh wildflowers.

Lounging in the home theater with Dewey and Webby, he flicked through the channels as the other two discussed some unsolved mystery they were determined to crack. Ottomon’s Empire season two was an improvement of season one, though it’d taken him days to appreciate it.

“Okay, if we go down hill towards the lake we may be able to fish out the artifact.”

“Didn’t Uncle Scrooge say the lake was guarded by a mystical beast?”

“Why yes, Dewey, it is, but I found a magical mirror in the room of mysteries.”

“You mean the garage?”

“Yes, I mean the garage.”

Louie rolled his eyes, “There’s a million rooms in this place. Can’t you have adventure sibs somewhere else.”

“We wanted you to be a part of it.”

“And since you won’t leave until you’ve binged watched the entire season, we decided to stay here until the meeting is adjourned.”

“Huey isn’t here.” Louie groaned and increased the volume, “I’d say he was lucky to go on his JW camping trip this weekend.”

Perhaps, this was the trigger he needed for his phone vibrated on the cushion next to him. Picking it up, the indicator replied he received a new text message.

Sipping his Pep can, he tapped the screen, and his carbohydrate drink lodged uncomfortably in his throat.

Dewey and Webby stared in confusion as he sputtered and coughed, spitting Pep left and right.

“Dude, gross! Beakley just mopped.”

He coughed, patting his chest, “Muygh phooey.”

“My phooey?” Webby looked at Dewey, “What’s a my phooey?”

“No!” Louie snapped, throat cleared, “I meant my phone! I got a weird message!”

Louie didn’t receive weird messages, and during the rare occasion someone sent a text to the wrong number, Uncle Donald swiftly removed it.

But there was nothing weird about this message. Surprising as it was, Louie didn’t feel uncomfortable. Dewey and Webby leaned over his shoulders and chuckled weakly.

“Wait, is that Uncle Donald?

Look at what I found in Daffy’s closet! He totally did work there, and they were partners! Don’t tell ‘em I snuck in. ;)

Within the message was an old, black and white photo. On the right of the photo was a little black duck playing a white upright piano. On the left was their Uncle donald dressed in a black tuxedo playing a black, grand piano. The little black duck wore a cheeky grin dipped in looney mischievousness. Uncle Donald wore an angry, temperamental glare on his face; its temper was directed at the little black duck.

“Who is this!?”

“It’s signed, Babs B.” Webby read, “Didn’t Huey use your phone a few weeks ago?”

“He did.” Louie tapped the photo to enlarge it, “But why is this girl sending us - him a photo of Uncle Donald.”

Dewey pointed to the black duck, “This must be Daffy.”

A multitude of thoughts scurried back and forth through Louie’s mind. Of the many he had latched onto one and only one, and it was the discovery his responsible, ever cautious, ever reasonable brother was capable of the same cruder mannerism as the rest of them. He was speechless.

“Look guys, she’s sending another.”

Another message popped on the screen, Louie tapped it. He winced.

And thanks, dude! We made first place!

Young girls dressed in Chickadee uniforms circled around a great, gold trophy, their faces alight with victory and triumph. Beside them their troop leader, a lean black dack whose platinum blond hair shined through the picture stood nearby, smugly glaring into the camera

Dewey turned his head crookedly at the screen, “Hey, is that lady a dude?”

“I don’t know, but if he is, those heels give him great height.”

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #huey dewey and louie #huey duck #mywriting #looney adventures in duckburg au #laid au #i can't believe i typed that out #daffy duck #babs bunny

52 notes · View notes