“Thank you, Mr. McDuck!”
appreciation post for Dewey’s photographs
What did they do to Scrooge?
Did they take his glasses? He’s not wearing them.
So. Doofus. *gulps* he- oh man. HE SURE IS SUPER CREEPY. I think this is a very interesting turn, but I am curious: Why did you guys make the decision to make him a spoiled (mentally unstable) rich kid?
For this story about the triplets experiencing life without the other two, we wanted to highlight how things could go wrong for them (Huey demanding obedience vs. Big Time’s ruling through fear, Dewey’s desire to be the “most special one”TM meaning no one was there to help him).
For Louie, we wanted to show why would happen if his greed was unchecked by family. We really wanted his foil to be a version of Anthony in the Twilight Zone episode “It’s a Good Life,” where everyone lives in fear of an omnipotent kid who no one ever says no to. Someone really unhinged from reality. We also liked the idea of introducing a rich kid villain specifically as a foe for Louie because, let’s face it, Louie’s too lazy to fight adults.
In that Twilight Zone ep, part of what made Anthony so scary is that he seems so innocent and enthusiastic until he turns. We thought that would be an interesting way to use what we knew of Doofus and come at it from a new angle.
We also settled on Doofus because he was the one character on original DuckTales that we just did not like as kids. For all the great stuff in that show, it did not have the best record with fat shaming, especially when it came to kids. There are whole episodes that hinge on Doofus’ love of pie getting in the way of saving the day. And he was impossibly clumsy to boot. We’d already changed up some other characters to get away from that idea (Beakley as a badass, for example), so we knew we wanted to strip out that element.
And trust me, before we made the change, I did a deep dive on the internet to make sure that there wasn’t some passionate “Cult of Doofus” fandom that would be devastated by a change to their favorite character in all of fiction.
I literally only found a couple of drawings of him falling down and kissing a hamburger.
As much as I love DuckTales 2017, I do find it extremely disappointing that Donald basically disappears from the show unless it's a Della episode. Especially when they billed him as a main character.
He’s certainly more involved with the main story this time, but I’m not surprised that he isn’t in every episode. Let me tell you why this isn’t a bad thing!
Ducktales has a large cast (many of which haven’t even deputed yet), and the new series is following the formula of the original in that aspect: it’s rare for the whole cast to appear in the same episode. When it does it’s a treat, but not the standard. In both the original and DT17, even main characters didn’t always show up.
People may have different opinions about this, but in my opinion it’s not feasible to tell a good story with every single character present in every episode. Some characters have to fall back temporarily in order to focus the spotlight on a specific character, and then the spotlight shifts, and the focus becomes the other character, etc.
You can’t develop everyone properly and have them interact in a believable non-rushed manner when they’re all thrown together in a single episode every time for only 22 minutes.
The focus keeps shifting, and eventually we will get a Donald-centric episode, just like we got one focusing on Launchpad, one focusing on Webby, etc.
Donald’s one will probably be a Wham Episode, too.
I’m just going to repeat what I said after watching this episode the SECOND it popped up on demand at 3-something this morning, which was
“[assorted excited and sobby noises that are in absolutely no way real words]“
Meanwhile in the background…
Happy Father’s Day to Donald Duck!!!
FRANK JUST RTED MY THREAD ON TWITTER!!!! AND NOW A BUNCH OF THE WRITERS ARE LIKING IT AND OR QUOTING IT
I’M GOING TO CRY FROM HAPPINESS NOW
Title: Wishful Thinking
Fandom: DuckTales (2017)
Main Character(s): Donald Duck
Disclaimers: DuckTales © Disney
Notes: Happy birthday, Donald! I wanted to write a story in honor of the occasion……Unfortunately, it’s me, so as hard as I tried to write a happy story to celebrate today, that’s….not what ended up happening. Sorry, Donald.
After all, isn’t that what birthdays are for?
Every year, Donald only ever really asked for one thing for his birthday.
Sure, there were plenty of things he would have liked to get for his birthday. But after all he’d done to provide for the boys as best as he could, the last thing he ever wanted from them was to spend what money he could give them for an allowance, just to get a gift for him. It got a bit easier for them after they all moved in to the manor, since Scrooge was (mostly) willing to help them pay for gifts, but…well, after what happened at the party, Donald was just resigned to not receiving birthday presents.
But he didn’t mind too much, as long as he was still able to get what he always asked for from the boys: he always asked to take a picture.
Granted, he had many, many pictures of the boys stored on his phone. But every year on his birthday, after most of the celebrating was over, he would ask the boys to take a picture of the four of them. Embarrassed as they always were at first, they would eventually agree and, while the boys argued about what poses they would do or threatened to cover the other’s face in the shot, Donald would set up an old instant camera he had. Once they were ready, they would take the photo, which would print out from the camera, and then the four of them would eat cake while the picture developed.
Things had been a little different this year while celebrating at the manor. While he still asked to take the picture, it had taken a bit longer to get everything set up since it wasn’t just the four of them this time. To be honest, he hadn’t entirely planned to have Scrooge and Webby be part of it. But looking at the photo afterwards, he decided that he liked having them in the shot anyway.
(Not that he’d admit that to Scrooge.)
The cake had also been ruined due to…reasons, so instead they had cupcakes while waiting for the photo to develop. That also worked out well in the end as Donald, once celebrating was done for real, headed off on his own; cupcake in one hand, and the picture in the other.
Normally he would wait until after the boys were asleep for this, but since moving in with Scrooge, he was the only one to really use the houseboat anymore. So, knowing he wouldn’t be interrupted, he walked into the boat’s kitchen and placed both the picture and cupcake onto the table. Looking around in some of the drawers, he found a slightly-used-but-still-good candle (at least he wouldn’t have to worry about some evil spirit or whatever jumping out of this candle) and a matchbook. Placing those onto the table as well, he then went to the bedroom to get one more thing.
He returned soon enough, placing the additional item on the table as well. Once he was ready to start, he carefully stuck the candle into the cupcake and lit it. Then, with the light from the flame, he set in front of him the instant photo and the object he had retrieved from the other room.
The cover of the photo album was a bit worn after so many years, despite being hidden away until this time every year. And the album itself was small, each rectangular page only large enough to hold one picture and maybe a little extra for scrapbooking. But it was good enough to suit his purpose; each page had the photo from a prior birthday, showing just how much the boys had grown each year as he slowly flipped through the album.
Finding the next empty page, he wrote the year on this newest photo before setting it in place, preserving that moment in time with all the others. Studying the picture for a moment, watching the candlelight dance across the glossy surface of the picture, he sat back in his chair with a sigh.
He’d given up hope so, so long ago…or so he told himself. And yet, he continued to take the picture with the boys every year…to have something to show for all the years that were missed. Because on this day, every year, he let himself indulge in wishing. After all, isn’t that what birthdays are for? To believe that maybe, if he wished hard enough, the wish that he made every year would finally come true.
That someday, he would be able to give Della the photo album as a present…for when they would be able to celebrate this day – their birthday – together again.
It was a long shot, he knew, but he still made that same wish as he blew out the candle.
“Happy birthday, sis,” he murmured.
Fic – The Price of Silence
Title: The Price of Silence
Fandom: DuckTales (2017)
Main Character(s): Scrooge McDuck
Minor Character(s): Donald Duck, Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck
Disclaimers: DuckTales © Disney
Notes: Late Mother’s Day fic is late. For some reason, I got this story idea after Mother’s Day had already passed, but I still wanted to write it. So here we go.
Summary: Maybe their family was cursed.
“Hey, Uncle Scrooge!”
Scrooge paused mid-step, looking up from the file he’d been browsing through. He was still never sure how to feel when all three of them were calling for him all at once. “What is it, boys?” he asked, hoping there was some semblance of patience in his tone.
He watched the three bound up to him, each wearing a smile that he recognized as someone wanting something from him. “Any adventures lined up for today?” Huey asked, his voice eager and hopeful.
He felt his brow rise in question. “No…none that I’m aware of.” In fact, he had planned to spend a quiet Sunday going over some paperwork he’d been neglecting.
“Do you think we can head on one today? Some treasure to find, or ruins to explore…soon? Right now?” Dewey pressed, and Scrooge wasn’t sure what to make of his rather frenzied tone.
With a puzzled frown, he closed the file in his hand. “Well…” he said, drawing out the word as he tried to think of how to tell them that he didn’t have any leads on anything at the moment.
He was spared from having to answer, though, as Donald, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, suddenly scooped the boys up. “Sorry, boys, no adventures today,” he said. “We’ve gotta get going soon.”
All three of them groaned. “But, Uncle Donald –” Louie started.
“No buts.” Donald voice was firm, but Scrooge was just surprised how his nephew was able to carry all three boys at once. “You know what we’re doing today.”
Clearly, the boys did know, judging by the chagrined looks on their faces. Scrooge, however, did not. “Where are ye all heading?” he wondered.
He watched Donald hesitate, an uncertain expression passing over the younger man’s face, and it was a long moment before he finally replied, “…The cemetery.”
Whatever answer Scrooge had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. “The cemetery?” he repeated, wondering if he’d heard right.
Placing the boys down, Donald waved a hand. “It’s just for a little while, on our way to the farm to visit Grandma Duck.” Then he finally met Scrooge’s eyes. “It’s Mother’s Day.”
“Mother’s –” He drew in a sharp breath as the pieces started coming together. “…I see.” His fingers drummed against the curve of his cane. “Do you, ah…go every year?”
Donald nodded. “Yeah. I mean, we try to, anyway. We can’t make it sometimes if I’m, uh…working.”
Scrooge returned the nod in understanding. He wouldn’t be surprised if Donald had taken a few out of town jobs from time to time. “I see.”
He didn’t really have anything else to say to that, and really, he wasn’t sure why he was asking. It wasn’t as though he had much of a reason to celebrate Mother’s Day himself, these days.
…Though he wondered if that might explain Beakley’s disappearance today.
His attention was drawn to the boys as he noticed them fidget, glancing at each other. They seemed to be having a silent conversation amongst themselves, because he could see when a decision was made a few moments before Louie spoke up again. “Uncle Donald, do we have to go?”
The answer was immediate. “Yes.”
Scrooge couldn’t help another curious glance at the boys. “You don’t like visiting your great-grandmother?” That sounded a bit odd since, while he hadn’t seen Elvira in quite some time, as far as he knew everyone liked her.
“Well, it’s not that,” Huey replied, a bit quickly as he suddenly seemed a little nervous. “Visiting the farm is fine, and we like getting to see Grandma Duck. It’s…It’s just –”
“It’s going to the cemetery,” Dewey retorted, his eyes a bit narrow as he looked to Donald. “It’s not like our mom is there.”
A sudden chill seemed to fill the room, the silence following those words deafening.
It seemed to last forever, but it was quickly broken as Dewey seemed to muster up enough nerve to continue on, “It’s not fair!”
“Dewey – ” Huey hissed sharply, but Dewey shrugged him off as he took a step towards Donald.
“Every year we visit your mom, or someone else’s mom, but you still haven’t told us anything about our mom!” Dewey’s fingers curled tightly into his palm, but there was something in his eyes besides anger as he looked at Donald. “Why do you have to keep so many secrets from us? Why won’t you let us know who she is?”
Scrooge’s fingers tightened around his cane. While he wasn’t one to talk regarding how much information he disclosed about Della (or didn’t, as was usually the case), he never took a moment to wonder just how much the boys knew about her. Honestly, he didn’t think he would have to. With as close as the two of them had been, he would have imagined Donald telling the boys almost everything he could about Della.
But a quick glance at Donald helped him to understand; the boys were each too wrapped up in their own thoughts and feeling and arguing about the matter, that they didn’t noticed the expression on Donald’s face. Or if they did, they didn’t realize just how bad it was.
Oh, but he could see it. Scrooge had seen that same pain, that same grief and heartbreak reflected in the mirror so many times that he couldn’t help but recognize it.
Which was why he spun the cane in his hand; the curved end sent a sharp echo through the hall as it struck the ground just in front of Dewey, startling him into jumping back and pulling the boys from their discussion.
“That is ENOUGH,” his voice boomed throughout the hallway. Turning to the boys he pointed the cane at them. “This conversation is over.”
“But – ” Dewey tried. However, Scrooge was quicker.
“No buts! I won’t hear any more of it. Now you boys go get ready to see your Grandma Duck with your uncle.” When they didn’t move, he used his cane to steer them towards their rooms. “Go on. No arguments.”
They hesitated a moment longer, clearly not happy with the outcome. But eventually the boys sulked off to get ready, leaving him and Donald alone in the hall.
And as the tension started to settle, the silence quickly grew awkward. Luckily it was easily broken as Donald cleared his throat. “Uh…thanks,” he murmured, not meeting Scrooge’s eyes.
Scrooge answered with a nod, because he understood. Despite how long they had been living together since Donald and the boys moved into the mansion, Della was still a rather sore spot between them. It was so much easier to get along with each other by ignoring that one topic completely.
He just never imagined that Donald avoided it with boys as well…not that Scrooge was really one to talk about things like that.
With another clearing of his throat, Donald turned to start heading off. “I better…go start the car.”
It was a lame excuse to leave, and they both knew it, but Scrooge ran with it anyway. “Aye. I should be getting back to work meself.”
He started to go, but paused and turned back in Donald’s direction. “What time do y’think you’ll be back?”
Donald glanced back at him as he thought. “I dunno. We might have dinner with Grandma.”
With another nod, Scrooge headed off again. “Well, tell Elvira I said Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Will do,” he heard Donald’s retreating voice reply. Then he was alone.
He made it to his office easily enough, but he knew he wasn’t going to get any work done anymore. And it wasn’t for a lack of trying, as he stared at the piles of documents on his desk that needed his attention.
But eventually he gave up pretending, pinching between his eyes as he sighed and sagged back in his chair. Then he took a moment, listening to the stillness throughout the mansion. And once he was sure that he wouldn’t be bothered, he opened the top drawer of his desk.
The drawer itself was mostly empty, save for two picture frames. Both were face down, forcing him to retrieve both frames and turn them over. The first photo was one of him with Donald and Della; he couldn’t remember exactly when it was taken, but the two looked to be about adults in the image, so he had to guess it was closer to the time when Della…well, closer to that time.
The second frame held a family portrait of him with his parents and sisters back in Scotland. He and his sisters were all children in the picture; Hortense hadn’t even been speaking yet when the photo was taken. It was an old picture, but it was the only photo he had of all of the family together. Shortly afterwards he had left for America to seek his fortune, and their family had never been the same after that.
Propping the stands up, he put the frames on his desk to look at each of the pictures. Then he sighed again. He felt a little silly, but…it also felt like something he needed to do.
So, after a long moment of the silence pounding in his ears, he spoke out loud, “Ma…Hortense, Della…Happy Mother’s Day.”
The persistent silence was his only answer. Not that he expected anything different, but it didn’t dull the ache in his heart. And with a sudden need to fill the quiet, to fill the emptiness, he continued on.
“I wish you were here…all of you.” He gripped his cane tighter to keep his hands from trembling. “There’s so much you’ve all missed…too much to even tell you. Della…I think ye’d be proud of how yer boys are growin’. There’s a part of you in each of them. Donald’s done well in takin’ care of ‘em.”
He glanced at the image of his youngest sister; she had been so young then, but he never had the chance to really appreciate the woman she had grown into. “Hortense…I’m sorry I couldn’t take care of yer girl. I know if ye were still here, ye’d kick my tail five ways tae Sunday.” He chuckled softly, but it lacked any real warmth. “But I know ye would have been proud of her…just as ye should be proud of yer son. Even after all he’s been through, he still pushes on tae take care of those boys. He has a strength I only wish I could have…I’m sorry ye never got tae see what he can do.”
First Donald and Della with Hortense…now Huey, Dewey, and Louie with Della so many years later. Maybe their family was cursed. Something in the McDuck blood that forced the children in their family to grow up without their mothers, a curse so terrible that not even being married into the Duck family could save them from it.
He glanced at the image of his own mother, taking in every detail of the gentle face that he, shamefully, had trouble remember at times. He and his sisters had at least been adults when they lost her (not that the fact brought any comfort). But he had been an entire ocean away when she passed. He never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.
He sighed, sitting back in his chair. “I’m sorry, Ma,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you…for any of you. I only wish you could be here for them. They miss you all.”
The silence felt all the lonelier.