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If one were to ask Louie, he could easily tell you all about how he thought this whole thing was nothing but a waste of time in a thousand and one different ways, and about how watching the rest of his Pep! swirl at the bottom of the can would be far more interesting. He would rather go get a new soda, watch the episode of Ottoman Empire he just recorded, or think of his next million-dollar business plan.
But no, he can't do any of that because instead here he is, along with his siblings—including Webby, of course. According to them, Huey had begun to conduct some research. On what? He was so interested in that detail that Louie immediately tuned out the conversation as soon as Webby pulled her board out of who-knows-where to settle in the middle of her room.
The only bright side was being allowed to research on his phone. At least he could pretend to be doing the task while aimlessly surfing the internet, nod his head as soon as they talk to him, and subsequently hope his siblings don't notice he's looking at anything but what was proposed to him.
"Louie!"
The boy looks up when a voice, high-pitched and brittle, sounds near him. He looks up, noticing that whatever conversation his confrères were having stopped. Whatever Dewey was doing in front of the board with Webby has been postponed, all of his siblings now staring at him.
Great.
"What? What's up?" He questions, unable to help but make the frustration evident in his tone, rolling his eyes for good measure.
"'What's up?' Dude, I've been talking to you for over two minutes! Webby even offered to get Mom if you still didn't answer,” Huey points over his shoulder and, sure enough, Webby looks ready to fulfill her mission—as befitted of someone trained for any unforeseen event. His brother groans, pinching the bridge of his bill, and takes a deep breath, ”I know this probably isn't that important to you, but could you at least pretend that it is?"
At this, Louie's brow furrows in annoyance. Not towards Huey—even if this was none of his business.
"What I don't understand is why we're digging into Gizmoduck and Darkwing Duck all of a sudden, or why you asked me to help you with the investigation? You know that I barely do it when it's for a school assignment, I only do it because I have you and Uncle Donald all over me!" He retorts, fiddling with his cellphone just for the sake of doing something, instead of looking at his siblings to avoid witnessing the annoyance in their gazes.
"We’re more than digging into them. I'm with Huey on this: I think the leap from having zero heroes to two over the two years since you moved in with Uncle Scrooge is interesting." Webby helpfully provides, rocking back on her heels as she analyzes the information they have collected in their individual notes—even Dewey's!
'Certainly what prompted the meeting,' Louie ponders.
"I mean, with all the time they had, with so many chances for at least one superhero to settle in this area, why are they doing it now? Two, while we're at it!" The girl shrieks, with that usual spark in her eyes that conveys that something got her attention. But to be fair, that happens with almost everything.
Well, Louie isn't going to deny it: his sister is making a good point, and throwing good arguments. But this is not anything but another danger magnet! Especially for him! If he was asked, Louie wouldn't hesitate to express his lack of interest in getting involved in anything that involves putting himself in harm's way—he has enough with that in the day-to-day.
"Maybe they didn't have the interest or the resources to do so," he shrugs instead, finally unlocking his phone to see what he was doing before: a news broadcast about Gizmoduck, regarding Waddle, appears. “I get it. Still having to work for free, they have to chase the Beagle Boys? Yeesh, no, thanks.”
He lazily opens a site that discusses both superheroes—which was curious, to tell the truth. Unlike blogs, where he could expect to see fan-clubs arguing about which superhero is better, the news outlets he'd find—and ignore—opted to close themselves off to their respective cities and, therefore, their respective heroes.
But, apparently, News 00 isn’t doing that. Whoever this Angus is, if he is reading the article's credits right, seems to have a lot to say about the new saviors of both cities.
"Who's chasing the Beagle Boys?" A familiar voice joins the conversation out of the blue, to the surprise of the kids; though Louie must say, he expected her to even enter the room to—oh, nevermind, there's their mother, poking her head through the doorway.
Louie notices how her gaze is immediately fixed on the board, looking closely at each of the photos, newspaper notes and handwritten notes, all connected by Webby's threads. He hears her hum an “Oh?” before walking straight into the room.
Behind her is Scrooge; however, unlike Della, he stands by the threshold, leaning his hip against the doorframe.
"What's all this?" She gestures towards the notes now; out of the corner of his eye, Louie notices how Huey's gaze begins to sparkle with excitement, happy to get back to his original point of discussion and have someone else show interest in what he's doing.
The young duck allows himself to smile, despite the fake boredom displayed in his eyes, before shifting his attention back to the article on his phone. Wow, Louie wants to laugh: this Angus really hates the supers. Uncle Donald would lose all his feathers if he catches one of them using the same colorful language.
"We decided to start an investigation into the superheroes of Duckburg and St. Canard. We were just talking about the crime rate these past few years, and discussing the timeframe between their first sightings since we moved here."
"I still think their costumes are cool, but they could be cooler if we saw more action—especially from Gizmoduck because, really, pies?" Dewey interrupts, laughing at the ridiculousness of that, despite Huey's ugly scowl at him. "Maybe I can get them both to come to Dewey Dew-Night! and suggest that!"
Louie doesn’t pay attention, not with what he's reading. He would say it is the most interesting thing to come out of this whole situation; mostly because of the way this Angus guy expresses about Gizmoduck and Darkwing alike—it's clear he has no preference for either. On the contrary, he seems to have a clear dislike for both, something he makes obvious in the way he writes since, boy, were the theories he throws something else because, seriously, 'taking advantage of the city's trust to steal their tax money'?
Even Louie isn’t that blatant; but if Dewey manages to bring both of them to his show, perhaps he'd suggest they ask Scrooge for a salary, and make a business out of it under their masks, whoever they are.
The strangest thing of all this is that it doesn't seem to be a recent loathing, but something that has been going on for years. He can't help but question how this guy works in such a medium.
"Huh,” their mother's confused voice echoes, breaking whatever spell had formed inside the room, and not even Louie is unable to not notice her, ”that's weird, I thought he would be here too."
"He? He who?" Huey questions, standing on the tips of his feet as if that would allow him to see past Della's quizzical gaze.
A look that becomes more inquisitive, as if Huey has grown another head.
"Duck Avenger?" At this, to everyone's surprise, Scrooge grunts, wheezing as if Della had suddenly knocked all the air out of him.
"What?! Tha'—That good-fer-nothing loafer? Bah!” Scrooge folds his arms petulantly, and Louie can't help but... blink, because this is the same behavior he uses when he talks about his enemies.
Fortunately, his siblings are too distracted to notice the speed at which he opens a new tab to type said name. As soon as he does, images of a duck dressed in black, red, and blue appear on the screen; however, they all look blurry, or from afar—as if the photographer had to go out of their way to take them in the middle of the action instead of asking personally.
"Duck Avenger?" Louie listens, then picks up the whine shared by his brothers.
"Or maybe it was PK? I'm not sure; I think he changed his name at some point,” Della's eyes narrow as she looks off into the distance amidst her rambling, ”come to think of it, I haven't seen him these past few months."
Scrooge snorts, looking at the wood of the door askance, as if it was the answer to all his complaints. Louie opens another tab in his browser to type ‘PK’ on the search engine.
"That sluggard hasnae been seen in almost ten years,” he rasps, ignoring Della's 'wait, what?' "Good fer him. If Ah see him right now, Ah'd kick his behind all the way ta’ the Antarctic."
Della quickly covers her beak with her hand to evade her uncle's wrath, even if a chuckle manages out before looking at them with a smirk. With her thumb, she points over her shoulder at Scrooge:
"He's just furious because Duck Avenger managed to steal a mattress from him—"
"With money on it!" Scrooge interrupts with a squawk, ignoring pointedly the children's surprised gasps in his spiel, particularly Louie's. "The knucklehead had a thing against millionaires, especially me! Occasionally, he would play jokes on us and take our millions, for what? Nae idea, spoiled brat always disappeared, you never knew when he was going to strike again!"
At this, Della nods.
"Then he switched sides and his name, and started to go after the Beagle Boys and these other dudes on hoverboards. Of course, he still didn't take interviews, so it's not like there's much to get information from, keeping his sightings a surprise. But there was this channel—News 00 that had a rare interest in him," this, Louie can agree with, grumbling when the only available source are highlights from them, Angus' name a constant. "We tried asking Donald, but he claimed to know as much as us—little liar."
"Wait, wait! Uncle Donald?" Dewey parrots and, next to him, Louie can see Webby and Huey stop writing in their respective books, their eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.
Louie isn’t sure that he looks any better than they do. Are they telling him that there really is someone who has been able to steal from his uncle without getting caught? It would explain why Scrooge almost lost his mind when he suffered gold fever, except he knew who did that from the beginning.
But what did Uncle Donald have to do with it—his uncle, who lectured Louie when he tried to bribe some classmates to get the answers to a test once? His uncle, who talks about how “family is the most important thing” and only fights when they're in danger but, otherwise, prefers to avoid any kind of risk?
Well, that last one makes sense, yet makes zero sense at the same time, if what Scrooge said about someone stealing his money is true—and considering his uncles are capable of holding a grudge as old as the triplets.
But Donald, being friends with a would-be thief that Scrooge despises? What’s next, that Donald Duck and this PK are the same person?
"Yup!" Della exclaims with a jump, the timing almost making Louie drop his phone. "Donald once told us that they were best friends; but I don't think he meant to reveal that because, every time we asked him afterwards, he denied knowing anything—you should have seen him, he sucked at it!"
Their mother laughs at that, like she's just told the joke of the century. Behind her, Scrooge gripes between grumbles, calling Donald “a wee traitor” or something, while Louie looks at his cellphone in thought.
The articles are no softer than Darkwing and Gizmoduck's, if not more aggressive. There's no way that, if they ask Uncle Donald, he would be just as subjective; but there's one way to check, isn't there?
"There's only one way to be sure." Louie gets to his feet too quickly for his liking, but he doesn't notice the impressed looks from his siblings as he does so.
"We just spoke to him, he must still be in the houseboat if you're interested."
There’s a twinkle in her eyes, a look Louie is unable to define for once, as she steps closer to look out of the window—surely toward the boat. He is sure he would do the same, if he wasn’t now a man on a mission.
He must talk to his uncle.
"Uncle Donald!"
The door to the houseboat kicks open, and Donald startles as he puts the book on the dining table in time to receive the green-clad hurricane that chants his name.
"Kiddo, is everything okay?" He settles as a very strangely excited—but equally welcome—Louie approaches. He watches, over Louie's shoulder, as his other kids follow.
But his boy just watches him with the widest grin he's ever seen on his bill, clutching the sailor suit like when he was younger.
He doesn't have time to reminisce any longer, however, when Louie greets him with a question he never, ever expected to hear from any triplet:
"What do you know about PK?"
Now, he knew that kids were curious by nature—especially his—and that there will be questions hard to answer: “why is the sky blue?”, “why can't we buy the new video game?”, “why don't we have parents like our classmates?”
Donald has prepared for that with no problem, but this?
"Who?" Provides, because what else can he do. Even if it wipes away Louie's smile.
"We were talking about the heroes that came in recently, and Mom told us about PK—or Duck Avenger," Huey comes over, showing notes he'd made in his JWG. It's not much, just some bullet points, and Donald manages to read Dudes on hoverboards??? before the kid hugs it against his chest. "She also said you used to be friends, and we were hoping you could help us with our research?"
"—And tell us why he changed that killer name because, seriously, Avenger. What does 'PK' stand for in the first place?"
Alright, he can't help but be flattered at that request; but that doesn't stop the lump building in his throat that prevents him from blurting the meaning of the acronym and, with it, his identity. But when was the last time his children relied on him for something like this?
"I don't know what they mean, we weren't really that close." The words taste sour. He hates it, hates lying to them in such a blatant way, but what are you supposed to say here? "He just... used to rescue me a lot, but he didn't talk too much—if nothing at all. You could tell he was more familiar with me than I was with him."
He tenderly picks up the cellphone Louie holds out to him and scrolls, with nervous fingers, for something that might support his information. On the plus side, it doesn't take long: he remembers his first day as Avenger as well as Scrooge; on the downside, he waits a while before turning the screen towards the kids to avoid suspicion.
"The news named him Avenger because he used to avenge on the rich, Scrooge always complained about it," he chuckles, relaxing his body. "As far as I know, he started using the name PK when these 'dudes on hoverboards' appeared; but I don't know if that was his name all along and avoided using it on public, or if he actually changed it."
Or maybe didn't know what name to use and just went with the flow, and finally settled on one when the Evronians first attacked, but he can't say that. Or how he wrote dumb signatures every time he dragged the Beagle Boys to the police station and that's how such change became public.
But Louie notices: the body language, the way Uncle Donald bites his tongue before showing them the site he opened which, by the way, was from 00. How he thinks his words.
It was a rhetorical question, back then. He can't imagine his adventure-free uncle not only taking risks, but doing something that directly affects Scrooge. He wants to pretend he's overthinking, his siblings don't seem to notice; but it's tricky when you know where to look, and that's something he knows how to do.
"But was he really a hero?" Webby speaks for the first time in all that time, too distracted by a book on the table that, Louie belatedly notices, is their childhood scrapbook, and that Dewey looks ready to act if she decides to borrow it. "I mean, he stole and..."
"It's true he got off to a bad start,“ Donald shrugs, and Louie senses there's more weight behind that than his uncle makes it seem, ”I guess Della mentioned that he wasn't much of an interviewer, and maybe his start had something to do with that."
With a gesture, he taps the top of Louie's cellphone, but Louie knows that they never mentioned the lack of interviews.
"I guess he knew that a true hero doesn't express themselves with empty words, but with actions. And stopping those guys? Was his way of doing it."
Yep, now he can't help but picture his uncle dressed like the guy in the photos, snickering as he runs off with Scrooge's full-of-money mattress. Not with the smile sneaking across his uncle's face as he talks.
Louie has to agree that the image is too cool, and mirrors his uncle's smile.