Duck Knight rises

Chapter 1

Jim tried to keep an open mind. He tried. He really did, until the trailer had concluded. He gaped, horrified. There was silence in the room until one of the ducklings began to applaud then so did the little boy in a blue suit as did Scrooge McDuck. They were happy but he wasn't quite happy, staring, stricken. The fainter applauded as well.

"That's a really interesting twist." The fainter said.

Jim gaped, in horror.

"B-b-b-but that's not me!" Jim exclaimed, pointing at the screen, hysterical.

"We did cast someone else," was the director's reply. "so of course it isn't you."

"That isn't what I meant." Jim got up from his seat then approached the poster, sighing, then turned toward the director. "That isn't Darkwing Duck," he approached the director. "That's some other duck!"

"It's an origin story for a antihero." was the director's amendment.

"Antihero?" Jim repeated, his brows hunched together. "ANTIHERO? Do you know what you're adapting? Do you know the IP? Have you watched any episodes?"

"I have and I hated it." then he added as the fainter's neck almost snapped turning his head toward him. "He is a vigilante."

"B-b-b-but this specific vigilante is a good guy." was the note by the broad duck. "That's what made him so entertaining, fighting bad guys, all alone, not doing crime with them, sometimes he worked with them to solve a problem that they made."

"Who's the good guy?" was the duck with the blue suit's question.

"There is no good guy." was the reply. "It's a study of personal demons waging against the good, making mistakes, learning, to be the good guy."

"But you need someone to be his foil!" the young duckling insisted leaping on to the table, clenching his hands, angry, glaring at the director. "How is it any entertaining when there isn't someone fighting for what's right?"

"Dewey is right, there's no fun in being evil if there isn't a good guy set in his morals between right and wrong." Scrooge replied as the boy set his hands on his hips and smiled. "We've dealt our fare share with those kind of lads."

"It's called character development." was the reply by the director turning away from the group and faced the doorway. "Welcome in the star of the show."

A young duck in a yellow buttoned up shirt, black sunglasses, with a red baseball cap entered the room with a broad grin as he withdrew his hat and sunglasses with dark blue eyes that glinted.

"H. . . huh?" His brows raised.

"You!" The fainter exclaimed, standing up, stunned.

"Mr Starling!" Jim squinted back at him. "We met at the signing. You fell on me, not the lowest thing that happened to me, but do you have any words of wisdom for playing the villain?"

Jim gaped, his eyes widening, then his teeth clenched, glaring, trembling, then lunged.

"Why you piece of shit!" Jim yelled.

Jim tackled him out of the room much to the surprise of everyone then began to punch him repeatedly at the face.

"Security!" Alistair called.

Jim was yanked off the actor by a tall bird then dragged down the corridor with a struggle, kicking and shouting, exiting the building. Jim was thrown out the front gate, crashing on to his face, dislocating his left arm, dislocating his entire bill, scowling. It felt like he was going insane, it was confusing, it was the most upsetting moment of his entire life. And it didn't make sense that it were happening to this iconic character that he loved so dearly.