Ducktales: Donald's Daughter

Chapter 4: Meet Donald Duck

"Dewey, why are acting so weird?" Louie asked his triplet brother. Dewey, who was holding his hands behind his back and whistling as he walked towards the stairs, froze.

"What?" He asked, raising his hands up in question. "I'm not acting weird..."

"Have too," Louie replied, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets. He eyed Dewey suspiciously. "Ever since we came back from Ithaquack, you've been on edge, sneaking around."

"I have not." Dewey said, trying to defend himself. He had been acting a little out of sorts...mostly because he had a magical blue orb that could show him their mom...not now, but in the past. And...he knew that she'd taken something called The Spear of Selene from Uncle Scrooge - and he was worried it was something bad.

And the only other person who knew about this was Webby. Not Louie, not Huey - and especially not Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald.

"Dewey - I'm your brother. We sleep in the same room, share a bathroom, and even the same birthday - I know when you're acting weird."

Before Dewey could spit back a reply, Donald stepped out of the kitchen. In his hands was a bowl of freshly popped popcorn, and a salt shaker.

"What's going on out here?" He asked, looking between Louie and Dewey. Louie pointed at his brother.

"He's been acting weird all week."

"I have not!"

"Have too!"

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

"Boys, boys," Donald said, moving so he stood between them. The brothers glared at one another from around their uncle. "There's no need to argue about this."

"But Dewey's denying it!" Louie stated, pointing at his blue clad brother. Dewey folded his arms and glared back.

"Because I haven't been doing anything, Lewellyn!"

"What did you call me!?" Louie demanded, taking both hands out of his pockets and taking on a fighting stance. Wisely, Donald moved out of the way. While he wished his nephews wouldn't fight over silly stuff...he also knew when he needed to let them solve their own problems.

"I called you by your full name," Dewey said, putting as much sass as he could into his voice. "Lewellyn."

With a battle cry, Louie ran and toppled Dewey over. Donald rolled his eyes and held the popcorn bowl and salt shaker over the two boys as they tumbled around him and into a hallway.

"Why me?" He asked, turning to go back into the kitchen. He still needed to butter his popcorn before it was ready to eat. Then, Donald could go and relax in the den, the whole TV to himself, hopefully.

Before he could leave, however, the front door opened and a cold wind blasted in. Launch Pad, Scrooge, and a strange girl came inside, all of them soaked and leaving puddles in their wake.

"Sorry for crashing the limo, Mr. McDee," Launch Pad said, rubbing the back of his head. "Again..."

"I'm used to it by now," Scrooge muttered, shaking rain droplets off his top hat. Donald shook his head, wondering why his uncle didn't hire someone else as his chaffier.

"You mean that wasn't the first time?" The girl asked, shaking her wet plastered hair out of her face. "Why the heck do you have a driver who crashes??"

"Hey - I don't crash every time," Launch Pad said defensively, closing the door. "Just a lot."

"Oh, how comforting," Donald said, attracting the attention of the new arrival. The girl's eyes widened when she saw Donald, dropping her backpack.