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Reunited and it feels so Goul! Part 3; Tired of this yet?

"Please Mr. Beaksby! Please, please, please!" The be-sweatered Mallard clung to the heels of his mailduck for dear life. "Just one date, I promise, just one!"

"I told you Mallard, I'm married." The Currier protested. "And even if I weren't, I wouldn't date anyone you threw at me." The mailduck broke away and scurried down the street, throwing the Muddlefoot's mail onto the lawn.

Drake moaned as he returned to the front door where Gosalyn and Launchpad were watching the scene unfold. "I only have a half-day left to find a date for Morgana's friend. What'am I supposed to do now? Gosalyn, are you sure you exhausted all your options?"

"Yes Dad, I asked all my guy teachers and they either had wives or didn't want to talk about it." She watched as her father suffered with a kind of miniscule satisfaction. The spirited little duckling wasn't inclined to put her father in mortal danger but watching him toil for a date with Morgana was entertainment for an afternoon.

"Well, you always have the backup plan." Launchpad adds.

"No! He's a criminal. I don't want to do him any favors and I doubt he'll be willing to help Darkwing Duck get the girl. In case you haven't noticed, we have a rather rocky relationship."

"But he fits all the required stuff on the list." He pulls it from the pocket of his kackies and unfolds it, clearing his throat. "Well-read, knowledgable, love nature..."

"Stop right there Launchpad!" Drake interrupted. "There must be someone in St. Canard that has those qualities besides him. What about Ranger Rick?"

"That guy? She's never gonna go for him DW. He's... well, even I think hes a nerd and just look at me!"

"Hmm, you've got a point there LP. But I'm running out of options." He began pacing on the carpet of the living room, leaving trails in his wake.

"Well it's not like Bushroot could committ any crimes while he was on the date with you. I mean, you'd have him in your sights the whole time."

"Launchpad, that's brilliant! If he's on a date, I can eliminate him from the list of operating crimes. Wow, why doesn't Morgana have more friends? I could have the whole Fearsom Five occupied and spend an evening with my best gal." He sighed. "Well, I guess Darkwing will just have to go ask him. It should be a definate yes though. I mean c'mon, he was going to marry a potato."

"Darkwing Duck! What're you doing here, I haven't done anything... well not tonight, but still- just- go away will ya!" The villianous vegitation in Bushroot's not-so-secret greenhouse on the hill struck at the caped crime fighter with anything they could get their twigs on; pots, rakes, spades, even throwing eachother, all in a desperate attempt to dispel the intruder from their glass house.

"No, you've go it wrong this time- Yipe!" A large Oak came barreling toward him swinging it's boughs. "I've come with-" dodge "an oppertunity-" dodge "Will you cut that out!"

The tree ceased it's swiping, but Bushroot did not come out from cover just yet. "What do you want from me? I haven't heard anything. Well, I think the Liquidator's planning something at the Ducksly drink mix factory but that's not for sure..."

"Really? I should check... No, this is more important right now." He stepped forward with great confidence. "I have the oppertunity of a lifetime here for you Bushy and all you have to do is go out with a lady."

"WHAT? A lady, are you out of your cotton-pickin' mind? What kind of game is this you- you- you're just setting me up!" The plantduck stood in a defensive stance and summoned his leafy companions to his side. "You're just going to get me out in the open amd make fun of me is that it? Well sorry Dirtwing, it's not going down like that!" With a flick of his viney wrist, thousands of pinecones berate the crimefighter like artilary.

Thinking quickly, Darkwing grabs at a garbadge can lit that had been capping an aluminum bin of fertilizer. He held it in front of his face and tried to talk past the flying pods. "No, you don't understand! Just STOP ALREADY! I'll tell you exactly what this is."

"I'm listening." His lip curled in agitation as the fire around him stilled and his nemesis lowered his sheild.

"My date, Morgana- You remember her, you captured her once. Anyway, my date has a friend that she wants to set up for... I don't know, reasons I don't get. Anyway, I have to find a date for that friend before tonight or I don't get ANYTHING! If you say no, I have to ask QuackerJack and I ree-hee-heely don't want to talk to that guy."

"Why me?" At this point, the plant-hybrid had come to stand near the duck, rather like an animal being coaxed with food. He looked at the duck tentatively studying him from beneath the brush of lavender petals.

"This list Morgana wrote out for me of stuff to look for. You match the description the most closely, next in line would be Quackerjack and then I really don't know where to go from there."

"Are we the only men you know in St. Carard?" He tilted his head to one side and thought about a few people he knew and realized that all the men he knew were jerks, Quackerjack was kind of one of them. "Okay, so if I date this woman, what do I get out of it?"

"Um- try a date." The sarcasm was thick in his voice, but he wondered if he hadn't wrecked his deal before it had been made. "I mean, I've met her, she's great."

"Do you happen to have a picture or something?" At this point, Bushroot was wondering what kind of dog he was going to be settled with for the evening. This whole thing wreaked of dumping a frump, but then again, until he could cultivate a wife it was something.

"I don't... but she's not bad." He added hurriedly. "Uh, petite, blinde, a little stocky but with great... charms. A real, oh how did she word it... Irish classic. Yeah, that's it."

"Blonde huh? Hmm" He thought a moment. "But, but won't she think I'm kind of..." He looked himself over.

"She was in a band with a gelatinous blob who played the drums, I don't think you'll be that much of a shock to her."

"Oh boy! That's all I needed to hear- When, where and how?" He sprang up and down giddily.

"The Blue Feather Room, 8 sharp. You should be able to find us... bats, spiders, capes, ya can't miss us."

"Wow, won't we be a sight; two witches, a guy in a cape and a plant duck. It almost sounds like a Farside comic."

"Yeah, it kind of does. Anyway, I think you'll enjoy yourself." He says as he turned toward the door and mumbled pleasantly to himself. "I know I will."

"Oh man, I gotta get ready," The plantduck also mutters internally. "Thanks Darkwing!"

"No-" Darkwing coos with a false friendliness. "Thank you."
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