Darkwing Duck

3, 2, 1!

Let's get dangerous.

Darkwing, Darkwing... Duck!

Look out!

Let's get dangerous.

Dusted!

Whiffle-ho!

Happy trails, Weasel Kid.

Whiffle Boy wins again.

Proceed to next level.

- King! - Ah!

Ahem. Gosalyn, don't you have homework to do?

Who cares? I made the semifinals

in the Whiffle Boy video game competition.

Neat entry form, huh?

If I win, it's my ticket to Whiffle Town for the finals!

So thanks for stopping by, Dad. Show yourself out, won't you?

Dad!

Sorry, young lady, but too many video games will rot your brain.

Now, go do your homework. Go on, scat.

Math. No sweat. I've got multiple choice

down to a fine art.

A masterpiece!

History. "Discuss the president you admire most and why."

George Washington. He invented the dollar bill. That's history.

Science. "Prepare a simple compound." Piece of cake.

Chocolate fudge. Homework's done.

Suck eggs, Weasel Kid. Whiffle Boy wins again.

Whoo-hoo! Victory is mine. Yes.

You're right, video games do rot your brain.

I... Oh...

I was looking for something educational to watch.

You're entering the contest too. You knew all along.

Yeah, yeah, well...

Shouldn't you be out fighting crime, Darkwing?

It's a slow crime week. Yeah.

I'll quit playing just as soon as I'm called.

Come on.

Hello? Sorry, wrong number.

See? Nothing happening.

Hmm. That's odd. It's for Quackerjack Toys.

I thought he went out of business a long time ago.

That's right. I did go out of business

and it's all Whiffle Boy's fault.

He has merchandizing tie-ins, he has an advertising budget.

He has better looks. But Quackerjack has toys!

It's playtime!

Whiffle mania is bigger

than anything you can handle, Quackerjack.

The contest at the mall is proof.

Contest? Did you hear that, Mr. Banana Brain?

A chance to take the Whiffle doofus

out of the game... permanently!

Playtime's over!

Ugh! We gotta get a new line of work.

Gosalyn Mallard takes the lead, ladies and gents.

Next up, Drake Mallard!

Good luck. Not like it'll make a difference.

Ha! I don't need luck, little lady. I'm hot.

- No score. - Suck eggs...

Hot? You're sizzling.

It's playtime!

- Who's that? - I don't know, but he ruined my game.

Darkwing Duck may have something to say about this.

Any secret crime fighter worth his salt

is never far away from a broom closet.

I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night!

I am the bubble gum that... clings to your...

- shoe? - Oh, Darkwing Duck,

you stay out of this. This is between me and the Whiffle wimp.

What's Whiffle Boy ever done to hurt you?

He put me, Quackerjack, the world's greatest toy maker,

out of business.

Well, I'm putting you out of commission.

Hey... Yah!

No mere toy can stop Darkwing Duck.

Unless, of course, it happens to be motorized.

I can't get out!

Getting dizzier... I'll help you, Darkwing!

Gos, you're stealing my show.

I was about to do that.

Come back and fight, clown!

Jacks? That's a sissy game.

What sissy game? It's a classic!

Oh! Well, I think that scared him off.

Whiffle Boy is safe once again.

- Pat, I'm thinking publicity. - Talk to me, Pat.

Darkwing Duck in our competition.

It's big, really big.

It's a go. Run with it, babe.

Yes!

- I'm Pat, this is Pat. - Pleasure.

DW, babe, you, the competition. How about it?

Um, ahem, let me check my calendar.

Darkwing Duck would be delighted.

Fab. You and a kid.

Major showdown.

Who, pray tell, might my...

Worthy little adversary be?

Gosalyn Mallard.

I do so hope you won't be too hard on me, sir.

I'll have to practice pretty hard to beat

such a talented player as yourself, little lady.

Let's take this grudge match to Whiffle Town.

Gosalyn! Gosalyn! Gosalyn!

Thanks for warming my crowd, kid.

Greetings, Whiffle Town! Huh?

Oh! It's only a flesh wound.

Sorry your old man couldn't be here, little one.

Food poisoning, you say?

Could be he's awfully delicate. Sort of a sickly, wimpy type.

Molecular Digitizer. Hot stuff.

Watch closely. Hold on to your seats, as it were.

And that, mis amigos, is how we get Whiffle Boy.

And save a bundle on programming costs.

Cool!

To your left, Mount Whiffle.

To your right, the convention center.

You'll note the banner reads:

"Welcome, Gosalyn"? But I was asked first.

I'm the star!

To the left you'll see a giant Crying Crissy Doll.

A giant Crying Crissy Doll?

Mama! Mama!

What's a giant Crying Crissy Doll doing in Whiffle Town?

Flooding it!

Mama! Mama!

It's playtime!

Mama! Mama!

You're all washed-up, Sniffle Boy!

Boy do I hate a crybaby.

I'll give you something to bawl about.

Eat mortar dust.

So it's tears you want?

No, this is mortar. That was tear gas.

Oops.

Way to go, Dad.

I am the Terror that Flaps in the Night.

I am the wrong number that wakes you at 3am.

I am...

soaked.

I had one of these dolls at the orphanage. I'll fix her.

Whoa!

Cowabunga!