Scrooge's Best Friend

The 87 Cent Solution

Author's Note: Hello??? New record?? A chapter the next day?? Impossible. I have no idea what god took control of my body, but right after I posted the last chapter I immediately started working on this one. I still had a lot of energy left and was in the writing zone. This chapter is not as long as the previous one though. It was fun to write, either way. You have now been fed twice, back to back, very unexpected for everyone. I'll have to leave for two months to tip the scales back /j

Here's the drawing for the chapter. Just a nice pose for Richard.

Enjoy the chapter. Till next time :]

~

"Uncle Scrooge! You're sick, you shouldn't be on your feet," Huey warned.

Scrooge wiped his beak on his sleeve, "I have to make my morning meeting." The old miser had just arrived at the Money Bin, Huey and Webby behind him. The boy was carrying a bag of groceries, a concerned look on him, while Webby was smiling. "A stuffy nose and clogged ears won't kill me."

"Uncle Richard would kill you," Huey rebutted.

The older duck eyed the two, "That's why he doesn't know. He left early for recording, he's busy, so don't bother him. I can handle this on my own."

"Yeah!" Webby backed up her uncle. "He's vanquished mythical beasts, demonic armies, robot uprisings!"

Scrooge pressed the "up" button for the elevator with his cane.

"Which would probably wear out someone half his," Huey's voice dropped to a whisper, "advanced age."

"Advanced age!?" the immortal shouted.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing Manny and a cart. He clapped his hooves together, "Where should I put this science waste from the lab?"

Scrooge aimed his cane at the horse, "For the last time, I'm not sick!" He struck the cart with his cane, Webby gasping. The grumpy man marched into the elevator. Webby followed him.

"That's not what I..." Manny turned and shrugged to Huey before walking into the lobby. Huey joined the pair in the elevator.

~

The trio were now in Scrooge's office.

"According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, your sickness could be–"

Scrooge cut the boy off by closing the vault door on him. The miser was now alone in his bin, "Finally."

He walked to the edge of the diving platform, "A quick dip before my meeting is all I need to vim my vigor."

Scrooge dived and began swimming in his gold, showering in them. His mood was rising as he was surrounded by his money, until he stopped and looked at a certain spot.

He gasped, searching around. He sharply inhaled as he did a circle.

"I've been robbed!"

~

Owlson and Glomgold were in a boardroom in the Money Bin. The latter was sitting in a chair at the end of the table while the former was standing in front of a white board labeled "Dimes for Ducklings."

The owl pinned two photos–one of Scrooge, the other of Glomgold, the two glaring at each other–onto the board. "Alright, I know you have this insane competition with Scrooge, but we also run this charity with him, so we have to look respectable, focus– Focus!" Owlson shouted.

Glomgold sat up from his slumped position, glancing around. "Wait..." he gritted his teeth. "Listen, Owlson, I know we've had our differences, but I'm very close to figuring out the perfect scheme! I may have a way to make more money than Scrooge, win the bet, and take over his company! You're supposed to be smart, maybe you can help. I just need to figure out how..."