Darkwing Duck

3, 2, 1!

Let's get dangerous.

Darkwing, Darkwing... Duck!

Look out!

Let's get dangerous.

The crime-fighter moved through the dark streets,

his every sense alert to any insidious injustice,

malicious misdeed or unspeakable crime.

He knew the night held new challenges to test his skills,

and he was ready, but first...

I have to pick up the kids from the movies.

Uh-oh, the kids will have to wait.

Looks like Earth is being invaded by aliens.

Attaboy, Launchpad.

Keep the kids at a safe distance.

This is a job for... - Darkwing Duck?

Precisely.

And now for a lesson in manners,

you Martian miscreants.

Take a hike, bub.

I'm the hero in this precinct.

No room for interstellar hooligans around here.

Please, no need for thanks.

Cut! Cut?

Oh, movie. Ha-ha.

That cursed duck is not in my script!

Oh, nice, Dad. You've just saved the world from a movie.

Yeah, DW, this isn't real.

Attack of the Teenage Mutant Martian Mallards.

Part 12.

You could have shared that information earlier, you know.

This picture's putting me back on top where I belong.

You cause trouble, and I'll bash every bone in your beak, buster!

Who's Miss Congeniality?

Boy, DW, you gotta get out more.

That's Gloria Swansong, star of stage, screen

and countless deodorant commercials.

Sorry, maestro, but I thought this was

the end of civilization as we know it.

No hard feelings, hey?

Hey, you look familiar.

Don't you know me from some place?

Never been there.

Of course.

You're my archrival, the villainous Tuskerninni!

Say, shouldn't you be behind bars?

I have abandoned my life of crime.

I live now for the cinema.

I'm A.F. Erret, head of A.F. Erret studios,

and you just ruined an expensive scene

in an A.F. Erret production!

He must be a, uh, ferret.

Come on, kids, let's get outta here!

But, Dad, if we don't stay,

I'll grow up thinking these big, gruesome, drooly monsters are real.

Why, uh, the emotional scars

could last a lifetime!

We're going, and we're going now.

Throw knives at me, drop nuclear warheads on me -

that I can deal with.

But she gives me that little pouty beak, and I'm mush.

Unhand that maiden!

Oh, puh-lease.

These aren't the Middle Ages, you know. Cut!

I'm not trying to tell you your job, Ingmar,

but no self-respecting hero would be caught dead with one of these.

Take two.

I give you one last chance,

in the name of intergalactic peace,

to disavow this evil scheme and... Cut!

What is this?

Now you're negotiating with space monsters?

Who writes this stuff, anyway? I do!

No offense intended, Hitch, but you want realism, don't you?

You want accuracy? I want quiet!

Action!

The alien raises his X-37 death inducer...

Whoa! Is this exciting or what?

Ha! It's nothing more than cheap special effects, Launchpad.

Mere movie trickery.

The hero leaps for cover.

And now the alien fires.

Oh, goodness gracious, this ray gun was loaded.

"Leading man injured in mysterious accident,

as so-called crime-fighter Darkwing Duck twiddles thumbs"?

Who are they calling so-called?

You oughta sue for definition of character.

I'll do more than that. I'll go to the studio and solve the crime.

Keen gear! We're gonna go see 'em make.

Attack of the Teenage Mutant Martian Mallards.

Part 12. I'll go pack.

You are not going anywhere. Come on, Launchpad.

Let's give that land of fantasy a taste of real-life heroics.

Come on, Honker, we gotta help.

But, Gosalyn, your dad said -

I know what he said, but what he meant was,

"Gosalyn, I can't possibly do it without you."

When dealing with adults, you have to read between the lines.

Here we are - A. Ferret Studios.

I've faced some of the most ruthless,

brutal, cold-blooded thugs of the century.

I hope it's prepared me for movie people.

I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night.

I am the hair in the lens of your projector.

I am -

DW, why couldn't we go through the gate like everybody else?

Because I am not like everybody else.

I am Darkwing... Duck.

Perhaps you'd like to show me your gate pass, hmm?

Uh, ha-ha. I left it in my other cape?

For your information, sir, I happen to be Darkwing Duck,

yes, the Darkwing Duck, here to solve a crime, thank you.

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

It's OK. I know the score.

You're underpaid, underappreciated.

You work long hours.

Your children don't respect you.

Life has no meaning anymore. You don't know where to turn.

But I'm here for you, pal. I'm here.

Don't keep it bottled up inside.

You're right!

There's no structure to my universe.

Psychology.

Hey, I don't have any children.

The whole scene, ruined by that idiot!

I'll go bankrupt! I'll lose the studio!

Nix the negativity, my friend,

for I, Darkwing Duck,

am about to write the final scene in this mystery.

Not you again!

Every time you're around, it costs me money.

The villain made one major bungle.

Mainly, that the crime itself was captured forever on film.

Boy, if there's one thing I like more than a movie,

it's a free movie.

I will now show you that piece of celluloid, Mr. Ferret,

and expose the criminal's identity.

Launchpad, the projector.

It's not Ferret, it's Erret. Erret!

Direct your attention, Mr. Erret Erret,

to the rubbish pile here.

A seemingly innocent bystander, easily overlooked.

A fly! A fly on the projector.

Oh... yes. Yes, so it is.

Then if the fly's innocent,

that can only mean

the perpetrator is someone else.

Guard! Guard!

Well, uh, no more questions for now, Mr. Ferret. Erret. Whatever.

But don't leave town.

The top half of the sound stage to your left

was built in 1925 at a cost of $5,000.

The bottom half was completed in 1929...

Look, Honker, Space Duck is my all-time favorite,

and I'm gonna make sure Part 12 gets made.

But what if your dad finds us?

We'll just have to be careful he doesn't find us.

Besides, do you have any idea what they pay for scripts in this town?

I am about to experience a very emotional moment.

It should, I believe, be captured for posterity.

That idiot A F. Erret still won't sell his studio,

and now Darkwing Duck complicates my scenario.

This studio sits atop more wealth

than even I can imagine.

See how the oil flows.

Oh, my plan was flawless.

A multi-million-dollar failure

to drive the studio into bankruptcy,

so I could buy the land for peanuts!

A closeup.

My script now requires a small revision...

The inclusion of one more tragic accident.

Iris-Out.

There's something fishy going on around here, LP.

Any picture with Tuskerninni in it

has to be rated "D" for devious,

dangerous and... rotten.

What about demented? Dishonest? Dreadful?

Desist! We must remain on our... guard?

John. Marsha.

John. Oh, Marsha.

I've learned from the janitor,

former vice president in charge of production... John.

Marsha.

That the studio is in serious financial trouble.

In fact, someone's trying to buy the place.

What do you know about this...

Gloria Swansong?

Well, I know she's been - en garde! - Married 27 times,

and I think all her husbands are dead.

And there's a rumor about - touché! - A phantom.

They say it's the ghost of her first ex-husba-a-and!