Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Screw the Bassist	By : LadyAriaa Category: +1 through F > Darkwing Duck Views: 1562 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck or any of its characters. All rights belong to disney. No money was made from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Note: Yay chapter 2! This took way more work to finish than I expected but there you have it, I have officially written a multi-chapter story. Go me! There are still things about this chapter that bother me so this will probably get rewritten eventually, but for now I’m sick of lookin’ at it.

Enjoy!

The frigid twilight hours were soon to give way to darkness as the black clouds began to spread themselves across the softly lit sky of St. Canard. Among the shaded, hazy streets, the unfortunate patrons who could not afford the luxury to survive stood little chance against the heinous residents that were more characteristic of the twisted city. They did not abide by the rules of the outside world, blissfully separated from the realm beyond by the inky bay surrounding them.
Thousands of loyal fans crowded around the immense manor in the center of their glorious city. News of their idols always spread quickly and they all knew that the latest bassist had finally been chosen. The success of the selection prompted the surrounding mass into a ritual riot, their own unique form of customary celebration, as they waited for the group to produce the newest member for their inspection. Their waiting would go on in vain for the band had long since left for destinations unknown, but they would wait on as long as it took and their numbers would only fortify as the time passed.
Far from the unruly center, on the darkest edge of the elated city, five figures treaded through the dead wood forest— the only likeness of nature yet remaining in the poisoned city. Moments after the interview had ended and Reggie’s contract was officially signed, the oddly match group had set out through the hordes into the deepest recesses of the deranged metropolis; a place few ventured.
The five members made their way through the misty woods to an end only their lord and master knew. It had been at least an hour since the trek began and the group now came upon a rocky rise, offering the first decent look they had received of the expanse before them.
“What are we doing out here again?” Elmo questioned with a scratch to his head as he paused to observe the diming landscape.
“We’re gonna fix the douche Sparky,” Jack answered stopping beside the rodent to use him for support as he pulled a stray twig from his red boot. “Better fix him good too,” he mumbled in addition as he flicked the annoying piece of wood into the trees.
“We got a new douche?”
Jack glanced at his friend, grinning wickedly. “Yes, yes we did.”
“Hmm….. So why are we out here again?”
“We’re going there moron.”
The deep voice from behind them drew the attention of both guitarists as Negaduck made his way towards the spot where the two were currently overlooking the landscape. He paused only a second to breathe deeply before sliding his way down the stony face of the small plateau in a remarkably smooth manner.
The trailing bassist at the back of the group looked out to where the mallard had indicated. In the distance rose a strangely shaped structure. The last rays of daylight that pushed through the smog danced along the glass sides of the far-off building. Reggie lifted a brow at the divulgence of information. What a weird destination, he thought distrustfully. He could feel his left hand starting to quiver of its own accord; he shook the appendage slightly before reaching into his coat to produce another smoke. This little fieldtrip was killing him.
An annoyed groan from Jack brought his attention to the pair standing a few feet away. “Why do we have to do this nooow?” he whined trudging down the rise they had been perched upon to follow the mallard who was currently hacking his way through the dead foliage just for the fun of it.
“Because a severe storm is on the way shit-for-brains,” the singer replied without pausing his slashing. “And we’re gonna need a lot of juice.”
Elmo’s normally flat ears shot upright as the information settled in his brain. “You mean it’s gonna RAIN?!” he gasped, pulling his hands to his chest and jumping behind Jack as though he would shield him from the coming moisture.
“What kind of thunderstorm doesn’t have any fucking rain?!” Negaduck spat over his shoulder.
The growing force of clouds chose that moment to let forth a bang of nearing thunder. It was as though the sky itself was set to do the mallard’s bidding. The gentle light of the waning sun was quickly extinguished by the gathering storm clouds, leaving little illumination to guide the group through the dying foliage.
“Well there’s your storm boss,” Bud stated as he flowed lazily through the lifeless trees.
Reggie raised a brow at the shifting puddle following his graceful movements through the dying trunks. There was something strangely captivating about the way he moved around: So effortless, so elegant.
A small sizzle brought the distracted duck’s gaze to the shining tip of his cigarette. A second sizzle left the bright orange bud useless to its owner causing Reggie to scowl at the sky as it began to let forth more rain. The wet canine that had previously been weaving absently through the forest was soon at his side, looking into the darkness with him. “Going to be a good one,” he said distantly, a grin snaking across his watery features. Bud glanced perceptively over to the cringing rodent a few feet ahead of them.
He put a dripping arm out to stop Reggie as he went to move forward. “Might wanna wait a minute,” he said softly.
The annoyed duck cast an aggravated glare at the drummer, but before he could say anything, the promised severity of the storm made itself known. The entire quintet was soon soaked quite sufficiently, the resulting downpour causing Elmo’s knees to buckle beneath him, his collision with the already drenched ground sending out a vicious shock of electricity into the surrounding area as he convulsed.
Reggie shuddered more from the screech let out by the other than the slight jolt that was delivered through his poorly insulated shoes. Bud’s head shook slightly as the residual voltage made its way through his liquid body, sending shining sparks across his torso and through the tips of his watery locks.
Only Jack stayed near his friend as he was forcibly drained of his electricity. He was accustomed to the pleasing jolts.
Negaduck cackled as Elmo’s spasms finally stopped and the rodent groaned miserably. “That never gets old,” he cackled as he returned to the trail in front of them.
The still sparking guitarist flipped the duck off halfheartedly as Jack helped him stand on shaky legs.
“This happen often?” Reggie questioned the dog beside him.
“Meh,” he replied with a shrug “Only when we happen get stuck in the rain. Or he collides with me… or Negs just douses him for the fun of it… Actually, now that you mention it, it does kinda happen a lot,” Bud laughed, slopping his way after the others.
A quizzical expression was the canine’s only answer as he slipped into the cold night ahead of the bassist. Reggie shook his head at the departing Bud, “Christ I need a cig,” he muttered softly to himself.
Reggie couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his slim body as their journey continued through the dreary forest. The long black coat that shrouded his figure was heavy with the water it had absorbed causing it to drag behind him and cling to his thin frame. The garment was quickly making the already irritating trek through the decrepit forest even harder. The sopping duck shook his unruly mess of hair in a vain attempt to rid himself of some of the infuriating liquid.
A sharp zap to his right brought his focus momentarily to the unhappy rat nearby. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat sorry for the shaking rodent; he did look rather pathetic. Through the shadows, he could see him muttering to himself, arms wrapped around his bare torso for some semblance of the warmth that his precocious voltage normally provided.
“Severe thunderstorm my ass,” Reggie could hear him mumble, “A little lightning would be nice!” he yelled, shaking a fist at the murky sky.
As though the clouds could hear his turmoil, a glistening bolt split the sky spreading its blinding light across the grey clouds.
“Finally!” the now elated Elmo cried throwing his arms into the air excitedly and running off into the dead trees.
A most confused Reggie swept his bangs back to try and spot where the rat had run off to. “Where the hell is he going?” he asked to no one in particular.
“Oh, the highest point in the near vicinity I imagine,” Bud answered matter-of-factly moving sinuously to stand beside the shivering mallard. “He’s basically a human lightning rod ya know.”
The confused bassist turned to the dog beside him cocking an eyebrow at the answer. “So, he’s trying to get struck by lightning?”
“Comon you beautiful black abyss you! Gimme your best shot!”
“Well guess that answers that,” Reggie muttered, ignoring any answer Bud may have offered.
As the bolts grew in power and quantity, they slipped across the turbulent sky like electric fingers reaching for the rodent standing atop one of the more massive trees. He gripped the precarious perch tightly in gloved hands, slender tail cast out behind him to help keep his balance.
The massive strike that hit him split the unfortunate tree, illuminating Elmo’s fur with delicate sparks, filling his body with a nutrient as precious to the rat’s survival as any sustenance. The resulting force if the impact threw Elmo’s body from the now obliterated branches leaving him in a sparking, near-orgasmic heap on the ground. The disbelief was blatantly evident on Reggie’s face as he observed the spectacle. Never before in his life had he seen anything quite like that. Rumors of the rat’s electrical obsession did not do him justice.
“Ooooh, yeah… that’s the stuff,” Elmo moaned, grinning stupidly as he lifted his pleasantly twitching body into a sitting position. He didn’t even care that his still waterlogged surroundings were already stealing his current away again.
“Damn baby, you hot,” Jack chortled as he put a finger to the rodent’s shoulder, giggling as it sizzled. Elmo’s mumbled reply went unnoticed by the playful duck as he lifted the other to his feet. Jack slipped his hand along the rodent’s chest, relishing in the way the sparks danced along his fingers as he twined them in the drenched fur.
“Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re sopping wet and siiinged?” the jester purred, wrapping one arm around the other’s slender waist to keep his shuddering, unsteady friend upright while the other twirled Elmo’s soft tail between his fingers.
Reggie was almost tempted to grin at the display the two presented. The tentative show of amusement was exhibited only by the small twitch at the edge of his bill. “So they really are…” he hesitated turning to Bud. “You know,” he finished resisting the urge to give any relationship between the two a set title.
Bud glanced at the duck beside him before laughing heartily at the question. “Well, let’s put it this way,” he answered “They’re just as likely to fight as fuck. But if you’re referring to certain rumors… well, I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” he finished with a grin.
Reggie turned towards the other momentarily before looking back at the stumbling, embracing duo. “Yeah. I suppose so.”
“Hurry up assholes! We’re almost there,” Negaduck called from ahead of them: already fed up with waiting for the other four to catch up.
The statement dredged up nerves Reggie had been trying to ignore. He had been attempting to convince himself since his audition had ended that he wasn’t concerned about what they were planning to do to him. But as they neared the enigmatic destination, Reggie began to shake from more than just the cold rain. He ground his teeth angrily, crossing his arms tightly over his chest in an attempt to force some of the trembling to stop.
The brooding duck jolted as he felt the sweep of a certain wet limb on his shoulder. The canine was hardly visible through the bleak rain and darkness, but Reggie could still make out the soft grin the other was giving him. He was surprised to find that the dog’s temperature was comfortably warm compared to the bitter rain. Reggie hated to admit that the gentle touch stopped some of his shuddering.
“Well at least someone’s in their element,” he griped feebly, cursing at his chattering teeth.
He could swear he heard the dog chuckle in response but it was nearly impossible to tell for sure through the sound of the rain around him.
“You don’t have to worry you know,” he said, removing his hand slowly from Reggie’s already wet shoulder. “Negs is nuts but he won’t let you die just yet.”
“Who said I was worried!” Reggie snapped defensively.
This time he was sure the drummer laughed at him. Reggie narrowed his eyes at the chuckling dog, clenching his teeth angrily.
“Something funny, Bud?” he growled.
“Don’t be a pussy Reggie. They had to metal me up too,” Bud said with a wink. The comment only served to make the bassist more uneasy. If they did that to him, what are they going to do to me? He forced the thought from his head as he moved to follow Bud. Doesn’t really matter anyway.
As they neared the dilapidated building, Reggie could just make out the structure thanks to the random flashes of lightning and the dim glow from the city at their backs. Now that they were closer, he could recognize it as a worn out greenhouse, a truly curious addition to the surrounding landscape. It was somehow reminiscent of a horror movie, an abandoned homage to times long past. Despite his troubled thoughts, Bushroot’s feet continued to carry him after the others, moving him towards his fate.
Negaduck was the first to reach the building’s towering doors. He looked to the top of the structure as he paused to be sure the others were behind him. The lightning crash that lit the massive doors of the greenhouse spread the mallard’s shadow menacingly across the crystalline surface, his red eyes casting an eerie glow against the glass.
Negaduck didn’t even have to open the doors of the neglected hothouse, the substantial amount of missing glass panels made it possible to slip inside without trying to force the rusted hinges to grant them admittance.
Several feet away, Elmo was more than happy to bolt through one of the open spaces, not even waiting for the singer to enter before he freed himself from the unforgiving rain. Jack summersaulted giddily into the hole the rat had disappeared through, following right behind his playmate. Bud snorted in amusement before moving idly into the building, laughing wetly at the resulting grunt and disapproving gripes let out by Elmo as the duck landed on top of him.
Reggie paid little attention to the exchange as he gazed up at the surprisingly tall structure. If he didn’t know better he would swear that the building was staring him down… waiting for him.
“While I’m still young Bushroot!” an impatient Negaduck called from within the structure.
The bassist shook his head as the other mallard’s calls pulled him from his hypnotized state. He stared through the open gap in front of him, hesitating mere moments before bending to slide his lanky frame through the opening. None of the other members were evident as he entered the dark greenhouse, only the quiet sounds of their voices gave any clue to where they were. Muffled swears came from the shadows of the far corner in the room where Negaduck was attempting to get the florescent lights overhead to work.
“Get over here and make these fuckin’ lights work Sparks!” he yelled through the darkness, kicking at some unseen object in his frustration.
“Heh, sure I’d love ta boss, but uh… where the hell are ya?” the drained rodent asked chuckling slightly.
“Morons. I’m surrounded by morons,” Negaduck muttered quietly, rubbing between his eyes. “Just take your damn glasses off!”
“Oh yeeah. Heh.”
The removal of the shades gave away the rat’s position in the most unexpected of manners. As the black-tinted glasses were removed, shining circles of electrical brilliance were revealed. Reggie had to look twice to be sure of what he was seeing as the small points of pale blue light made their way across the building. So he sees in the dark too huh? Damn rat’s just full of surprises.
A loud bang sounded in the dark as Elmo collided with some unfortunate piece of equipment. A soft grunt was the only response the guitarist offered. Several other crashes and mumbled oddities later, the lines of lights overhead flickered to life.
The resulting brightness of the florescent bulbs caused Bushroot to squint his eyes against the assault. As he adjusted to the new level of illumination, he took a moment to take in his surroundings. The entire space was littered with various scientific instruments and gardening supplies. The many different varieties of flora had long since passed from the living world, the passage of time leaving them as mere husks of what they once were.
Far above the dying foliage, the storm still raging beyond the glass walls was raining steadily through the large opening in the slanted roof. Among the many dusty and rusted resident objects, only one fixture stood out. Just beneath the opening in the celling, there stood what appeared to be some type of surgical table. Connected to the ominous slab was a massive machine, a dusty device of mysterious intent. Bushroot didn’t like how this was starting.
With the aid of the light, Reggie could once again observe his fellow band members. In the corner the still grumbling singer was poking through a rather impressive electrical box slicing wires with his large knife and reconnecting them in different patterns. Beside him Elmo shook his body in a way much akin to a dog trying to dry itself. He gave a final flick of his tail to remove some of the water clinging to the tip of the delicate appendage before returning to help Negaduck with the rewiring. Reggie couldn’t help but snort slightly at how much faster Elmo accomplished it.
Negaduck didn’t seem too concerned; he simply turned away from the case allowing the other to continue alone as he searched through a nearby container. The brief search produced several hefty electrical cords which he threw unceremoniously onto the dirt, spreading their black coils along the ground. Without a word, he returned to the where he had been standing by the guitarists so that he could begin connecting the wires to those already hanging from Elmo’s torso. There was a familiarity about the action, leading Reggie to believe this was not the first depraved device that he had used the rat to power.
“Are you done yet?” he asked impatiently as he finished connecting the various cables to the oblivious rodent.
“Uh… done with what?” Elmo asked, turning his head towards the other.
“The wires dumbass!”
“Oooh! Heh, yeah totally.”
“Good. Now get up there and get me some juice,” the mallard replied pushing the wire-clad rat towards the ladder that scaled the side of the mechanism.
Elmo’s pitiful groan attested to how badly he wanted to be back in the rain, but he didn’t dare argue. “When I get home, I’m plugging into my favorite outlet and I’m not movin’ until I combust from electrical overload,” he muttered as he ascended the precarious rungs, flinching occasionally as the rain hit him.
Bushroot moved further into the room, watching the guitarist as he moved towards the inky sky. Below the voltage junkie, Negaduck continued to fiddle with various things on the machine, giving it a final kick to make it run. As the impressive mechanism whirled to life, a beautiful display of lights spread themselves across its front. Negaduck grinned in satisfaction at the now operational device, glancing up to be sure Elmo was in position. His grin only grew in girth and gratification at the sight of the shaking, miserable rat gripping the base of the roof’s tarnished grounding rod.
“You ready up there Sparky?” he called amusedly at the shuddering rodent.
“This sucks serious balls boss!” he replied grouchily.
“Stop being a bitch volt-breath! I shouldn’t even have to ask you to get struck by lightning!”
“Yeah… that part will be pretty cool.”
The singer’s brow twitched indignantly at the idiocy surrounding him as a sharp throb to his temple reminded him that his hangover was still present. “Let’s just get this over with,” he snarled, his previously decent mood already diminishing.
Negaduck snapped his fingers curtly at the drummer who had slipped unnoticed behind the gawking bassist. Reggie hadn’t moved more than a few inches towards the table before he felt the dog behind him grip his coat, pushing his shoulder forward with his free hand so that the garment was removed smoothly as the mallard’s footing faltered. A sour frown settled on his face as he found himself clad only in his black pants and worn out boots. Before he could turn to confront the sopping menace, the other’s figure twisted around him so that he could grin smugly at the perturbed duck as he backed towards the setup in front of them.
Bushroot hardly noticed his own uncomfortable shifting as he stared at the metal tabletop; he felt exposed without the false sense of safety the coat provided. He put his hands habitually to his chest, searching in vain for his precious cigarettes. A low growl sounded in response to the missing box. If he didn’t get a smoke soon there were going to be some serious problems.
Yellow-tinted eyes widened as a heavy breathing registered right next to him. Reggie narrowed his eyes irately, shifting his gaze over to the grinning mallard currently huffing in his ear. Jack’s smile widened to impressive proportions as he gained the other’s attention.
“Ready to get fucked up Reeegie?” he asked whimsically.
“Uhh..”
“Ahh, that’s a yes!” he interrupted grabbing the slim duck by both arms and pushing him crudely onto the table.
Reggie gasped harshly as the wind was pushed from his lungs at the rough collision. Before the disoriented duck could even fully register what was going on, both his arms and legs had been shackled to the table by Negaduck and Bud leaving him immobile and thoroughly displeased. He glared furiously at the drummer currently locking his wrists to the cold table. Bud merely smiled in return, his cool hands leaving wet trails down Reggie’s shaking fists.
“Is this really necessary?” Reggie questioned angrily through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” was the only reply as Negaduck pulled a menacing-looking attachment from the apparatus.
Without warning he snapped the shackle over the other duck’s bicep, twisting a bolt at the base to secure the ring. Reggie hissed at the pain the metallic cuff caused as it was attached to his upper arm. Dozens of long metal spines tore into his muscles, forcing an eerie coldness into his now bleeding skin. He shot a scowl briefly at the mallard, hiding his distress behind the cold stare. His chest began to rise and fall more irregularly as the other duck finished the final preparations. The shallow breathing was hardly notable to those not looking for it. Bud saw. He slipped his fingers subtly across the other’s shuddering arm, smirking at the way it soothed the other without him even noticing.
A sharp crash of lightning just above the condemned conservatory brought liquid eyes to focus on the currently glowing rat. The massive strength of the bolt the struck him forced every hair on his body to stand erect as the electricity leapt along his moist fur. Bud backed away from Reggie’s side as the current began to pour through the many wires. His face fell into a blank mask as he watched the electricity flow into the duck on the table. He was suddenly unsure of how to feel.
All Reggie would recall from the experience was pain. A merciless agony that racked his whole body, burning and festering like a terrible cancer. His screams blocked out all but the crackle of voltage pouring from the euphoric rodent hanging above him. The few moments that it took to complete the process felt like an eternity to the tortured mallard; it was as though time itself was being forced to extend infinitely just to torment him.
All at once, more abruptly than the process had started, the screams grew quiet. Blue eyes stared and bill parted in silent cries as Reggie’s back arched off the table calling notice to his already prominent ribs. As the voltage ebbed away, the fatigued duck’s body laid itself lifelessly against the hard surface beneath him. Heavy lids slid themselves over drained blue orbs, hiding the world from Reggie’s fatigued mind. It didn’t hurt so much anymore. It felt like a soothing burn; a gentle laceration: A contradiction of feeling that the exhausted duck could hardly understand.
Within moments consciousness was fully stolen from the bassist, leaving him unresponsive on the cold slab. Elmo had long since fallen through the open roof landing in Jack’s outstretched arms. The collision left the two entwined on the floor, the wattage coming from Elmo sparking against the metal bells at the end of the jester’s hat. Jack giggled at his flickering, smirking friend, falling back against the floor to allow his fellow guitarist to lie on top of him.
“Sweeet,” Elmo mumbled grinning contently.
Negaduck looked triumphantly at the smoking machinery, smoothing his hand through the feathers on his head. “Well, now that that shit’s finally over let’s getting the hell outta here so I can pass the fuck out,” he said before turning towards the opening that would lead him out. “Get the bassist drip-face,” he added over his shoulder as he slipped from the greenhouse; he obviously had no intention of waiting for any of them this time around.
“Nooot faaiir,” Elmo whined as Jack pulled his worn-out body off the floor. His legs shook uncontrollably as he was forced to his feet. Without the jester’s support he would have little chance of going anywhere.
Jack glanced between the rain outside and the quivering rodent considering his options. “Hmm,” he hummed turning to the drummer who was currently detaching the motionless duck from the machine beside him. “We’re gonna hang back Buddy boy. I think Mo’s gonna blow a fuse if he ends soggy again anytime soon,” he said lowering Elmo to the ground.
“Whatever,” Bud replied pulling the sleeping Reggie into his wet arms after covering him hastily with his treasured coat. He didn’t care much what the others did at that point. He suddenly felt rather peculiar and there was nothing more he wanted at that moment than to leave the broken-down building and get home so he could drown the emotions in his favorite beverage.
As he stepped back into the night, he could see that the rain was already beginning to ease back, leaving little more than a light scatter to fall upon the surrounding countryside. The icy night air was oddly calming to the liquid dog. He seemed to need the long solitude that the journey back provided. It was actually quite relieving that he never ran into Negaduck. He was starting to question things, things he’s never questioned before, and the mallard’s evil presence would have only served to make things worse. Bud glanced at the malnourished duck in his arms to investigate his condition. Beads of sweat melded with the drops of rain soaking into Reggie’s pale plumage as his labored breaths were stolen by the cold night. The blood still pouring from his laceration dripped inaudibly to the ground leaving a red trail behind them.
“You really are an idiot you know,” he muttered, eyeing the wound on Reggie’s arm. “You shoulda just stayed where you were.”
Bud did his best to ignore the sleeping mallard for the rest of the trip, more content to deal with his troubling thoughts. When he finally arrived back within the paved streets he was accustomed to, he was greeted by the glimmering of dozens of celebratory fires and the jubilant cries of their still partying fans. He was relieved to find their usual limo waiting for him. Negaduck must have already made it back otherwise it wouldn’t be there.
Bud was grateful for the stillness of the ride home, his strangely foul mood eased slightly by the seclusion. At least the trip was short, impeded only by the loyal patrons crowding the streets. Bud sighed as the elaborate limo finally made its way into one of the many lower-level entryways of the towering building.
The familiarity of home left the dog feeling uncharacteristically tired. His watery legs felt horribly heavy as he carried the duck to the room traditionally set aside to house their fleeting bassists. The darkness shielded most of the room from sight, but all he was interested in was the large bed only a few feet away. As he slipped the frail body in his arms into the plush bed, Bud couldn’t resist the urge to study the duck for a moment. It would be interesting to see what the other would be when he woke. The thought that this was likely the last time he would see the mallard for what he really was seemed to urge him to memorize every detail of what he used to be.
The cooling, churning liquid of the curious drummer stretched itself out so that Bud could hold his dripping face over the sleeping bassist as he studied him. He snorted softly, pulling his body back as he grabbed the discarded trench coat from the floor.
The liquid drummer slid silently across the room where he deposited the drenched coat on a dresser near the door. After a final glance to the slumbering mallard, he slipped silently out the door, leaving only a shimmering trail of water as evidence that he had ever been there at all. From down the shaded hallway, red eyes followed the canine as he flowed through the dark corridor.
“Have a good sleep Reginald,” Negaduck whispered with a sinister grin as he watched Bud leave the room “It’ll be the last peaceful one you ever get.”
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Screw the Bassist