Work Text:
“-All you gotta do...is smile and smile! And there go all my defenses-”
Heavy eyelids slowly drifted open to the unfittingly cheerful music coming from the radio alarm clock, and then a groan of a prayer through a gritted beak, “Dolly, give me strength.”
Slapping the top of the clock to turn it off, Gyro arose from his worn twin mattress, and stiffly rose off of the bed, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand. He eased into his slippers, and thoughtlessly stepped over his fat lazy cats on the floor as always, not even needing to look where he was going, having his morning rituals down to a T.
Predictably, there was no hot water. And it seemed no amount of complaints to the superintendent or demands for the water company to check that his bill was indeed paid would change this for Gyro. So he simply allowed the freezing spray to wake him out of his stupor.
Some moronic teenager thought it funny to put starch in all the machines in the laundromat downstairs the night before, so all of Gyro’s outfits for the day would have an unnatural stiffness to them. Whatever. Better that than they be wrinkled beyond redemption he supposed.
He tipped the milk over his bowl of cereal, and one drop barely leaked out. Confused, Gyro peered into the upside down carton, only to get a glop of curdled dairy to greet him in the face.
Resorting to a too-soft grapefruit instead (which, of course, squirted him in the eye), Gyro fed his cats then headed to the parking garage to climb in his car. For some reason though, he felt like he was forgetting something.
It was only when he got out of the garage that he looked in the back seat and realized he’d forgotten to wake Boyd entirely, and had to scramble up the stairs, rush the poor kid awake with a multitude of apologies, and hurry back out to the car with him in tow, promising him a bagel and jam from the moneybin cafeteria.
Boyd fell back asleep in the car, something Gyro preferred at the moment, as he couldn’t really handle much conversation. He tried to turn the radio on, but was met with static. Gyro then noticed his dinosaur of a car had seemed to lose its antenna spontaneously, and decided not to tempt fate by wondering aloud if things could get any more unfavorable.
And because the gods of traffic seemed to hate him, they did. Gyro was in a left turn lane with a green light, but a line of cars speeding through the opposite way had priority, and he was left to wait, praying the light wouldn’t turn yellow. Some idiot woman behind him began honking at him to go, and when he gestured to her that he had to let the other cars pass first, she flipped him off and honked even more. Eventually when he had a chance to go, Gyro turned, and the woman behind him aggressively swiped past him, and almost plowed into a street lamp. Gyro couldn’t help but snicker. Karma was the true winner here.
When he reached the moneybin garage, Gyro handed his keys to the attendant to park, and carried Boyd inside, taking the elevator down to the lab.
While Boyd was waking up, Gyro began to go over his list of tasks for the day. Ultimately, the goal was to finish his latest project, a corn harvester that created popcorn at the same time.
But as always, there were other things to do.
Organize tool bench.
“Dr. Intern, I appear to be missing my ball-peen hammer,” he spoke aloud as he rooted through the mismatched tools.
“Oh, my mistake, Dr. Gearloose!” Fenton smiled as he rushed over from his own disorganized station, more than a little harried himself. “I think I lent it to Gandra.”
“And where is your own?”, Gyro questioned dryly, not that pleased that his own tools were being rented out, “Or Miss Dee’s??”
“Um...would you believe they are incognito?”
Gyro already could tell a migraine was imminent, “Next time, ask before you borrow my tools, if you can manage that...please.” He all but gritted the last word.
“Sure thing, Dr. Gearloose.”
Gyro decided to curb future headaches by helping himself to some coffee, but was greeted by a cup full of ants. Sputtering, he looked back to Fenton, “Did you clean the coffee pot this week?”
“Um...no,” Fenton admitted sheepishly, “I suppose I sort of forgot. I’ve been having to prioritize my duties as Gizmoduck, I haven’t gotten around to some of my old interning duties.”
“Well...I suppose I can understand that,” Gyro muttered, realizing Fenton’s excuse was legitimate, and alas left him with more work, “If you or Miss Dee would be able to get around to that sometime today, I-”
“Would love to, but I am on the tightest deadline here to update the Gizmocloud!” Gandra called from her seat as she donned a pair of VR goggles, “It’s got more bugs than ever.”
“That’s what you get for using a Python script!” Gyro snarked, grumbling as he flipped his task list three pages further before he found an empty space to scribble down a reminder to clean the coffee pot with plenty of hot water and soap.
“Oh by the way, Dr. Gearloose, is it alright if Gandra and I both leave a little early today? Gizmoduck has been invited to test the security systems at SwannTech and Gandra’s contributions to it were a big part of-”
“Fine,” the chicken almost spat, “Just finish your own tasks in-”
Fenton’s watch beeped loudly with an alert for Gizmoduck, “Hold that thought, Dr. Gearloose! Robbery in progress at the Greek deli on Third and Magnolia!”
“Grab me a falafel wrap when you’re done crime fighting there, suit!” Gandra called over her shoulder.
“Will do! Blathering Blatherskite!”
“Wait, can I have one too-” Gyro’s request was cut off by the activation of the armor’s jets as Fenton took off. The chicken grumbled, deciding he couldn’t win today, and submitted himself to taking on all of Cabrera’s menial task work to maintain upkeep.
It was times like this where he missed the days when the Head of Research and Development wasn’t completely a one man job. Before Della’s disappearance to the moon, when he had more hands on deck to handle all these tasks.
Speaking of Della, Gyro could barely hide his disdain as he heard her kick the door of the stairwell open, one of her spawn in tow.
“Hey, poindexter! Good news, you’ve got a new unofficial intern to look over for the afternoon.”
“Oh no way, I am more than a little busy at the moment, I-”
“I’ll pay you back!”
“Payment in sugar packets doesn’t count, woman!”
“Too bad, Penny and I have a chance to go scavenge rocket parts from the old space station in Cape Cardinaveral and Huey is allergic to jet fuel, ok love you, but not really, you smell like starch and depression, byyyyyeeee!” Della all but sang in one breath as she disappeared out of the lab, leaving her duckling behind.
Red Nephew. The one that Gyro at least could tolerate for long periods of time.
"You." Gyro addressed the kid, eyes narrowed as he tried to recall his actual name.
"Look, I know you weren't expecting me to be in here today, but don't worry!" the duckling piped up, "Boyd and I can enrich our minds with quiet tinkering and we promise to stay out of your hair."
"Good. You know your place. Don't bother me unless absolutely necessary."
"Got it!"
The peace of solitude lasted all of five minutes. Gyro didn't even have time to blow steam off his ant-plucked cup of joe when the squeaky pre-teen voice piqued his ears again.
"Yes, Red Nephew?" he didn't even bother to turn around.
"Um...is a-very-tiny-but-possibly-spreading electrical fire considered 'absolutely necessary'? Just wondering."
After some very liberal use of the extinguisher, and the childrens' misguided attempts to clean it all up, Gyro could drink gallons of water and sleep for 44 years. But first, he tried to put on his most enthusiastic face as he shoved Huey and Boyd in the remaining lab partner's direction, "Manny~!" Gyro's grin was large and tight, "Congratulations, you get the utmost fun job of monitoring these two for the rest of the day!"
"Would if I could, gladly," Manny spoke aloud with the voice that Gyro still wasn't used to after months of it, "But the ladies and I here have plans for a seance!" He gestured to Webby, Lena, and Violet, the foremost waving cheerfully. "Two's company, three's a crowd, but four is just right for summoning the dark lords!"
"Whatever, just leave me out of it. And don't do it in the lab, I've already got enough nonsense happening in here."
"Oooooohhhh yeah about that," Lena gestured awkwardly, "We might have done a practice round involving an Irish banshee."
The bloodcurdling scream that nearly gave Gyro a heart attack answered the question he didn't get to ask, and he dropped his coffee in fright.
"You may want headphones," Violet suggested grimly.
While Gyro tasked everyone in presence to dispel of the ghosts currently haunting his lab, he took it upon himself to run the errands that never seemed to get done around there; restocking the break room of plastic kitchenware, replacing all the broken mugs, replenishing pencils, getting new cleaning supplies, disposable lab coats, groceries for the break room fridge, getting more scrap metal, buying more wire and welding material in bulk, and a new battery for the shared bluetooth speaker they bought on clearance with the department surplus. And he needed more motor oil for the corn harvester. Ok, he could do this. Maybe.
Gyro knew to stop pushing his luck with Murphy's law as he resisted the urge to throw a massive screaming fit as he discovered his car missing from the garage. After a terse exchange with the attendant who admitted to mixing up keys, Gyro had to call the new driver of his car with full understanding he would need to absolutely have the patience and calm of a saint if he wanted to get any sense through.
"Hey, Gyro, what's new?", the chauffeur smiled as he maneuvered to let his feet take the wheel so he could use his hands to man the phone.
"Launchpad." He tensely spoke, "You are driving my car."
"Really?! Huh! Well that explains why the divider thingy is gone. And why the back looks a lot shorter. And the 'I Don't Brake for Capitalists' bumper sticker. I just thought Mister McDee was having an identity crisis!"
"He very evidently is not. You were given the wrong keys by the attendant and drove off without switching."
"Aw man! Well I'm sorry. Honest mistake I swear! It could have happened to anybody."
"I sincerely doubt that, Launchpad. But truly no harm done so long as you bring my car back right now."
"Well, I'm kinda in the middle of the highway right now."
"Oh."
"But don't worry, I'll just make a U-turn right here!"
"Not on the highway, d-"
"Bye!", Launchpad cheered, hanging up just as Gyro heard a cacophony of swerving and honking. Left in gobsmacked silence, Gyro looked to the near apathetic attendant, reluctantly offering his hand out for the alternate keys.
Now, in most scenarios, Gyro considered himself a relatively good driver. But he was more used to small modern cars, not 15 foot juggernauts that could wipe out a scout troop if it took corners too tight.
"How the heck does Launchpad drive this every day?!", Gyro yelped, screaming again as he heard the rear bumper scrape another parked car.
Getting the hunk of metal through town was more than enough to give Gyro an ulcer, but running errands in it was more than difficult. And Lil Bulb hopping all about the back interior in joy was not helping.
"Lil Bulb, stop your romping and help me park this damn thing!"
Each errand was like pulling teeth, with Gyro returning to the car each time with more parking tickets decorating the front window. He tried to find the silver linings by noticing he was denting less parking meters with each stop, but hope was dying faster than a pop star's shelf life.
He dropped a bag of groceries on his foot and had to limp back in the store to get more coffee cups and eggs and dish soap. And then he got cut in line at the dry cleaners. And then his two go-to spots for motor oil were fresh out, and the third was all the way at the edge of town.
On the way there, Gyro tried to hope that within two hours he would be on his sofa at home with a cup of tea and a television remote, but he knew it wouldn't be as soon as the front of the limo began smoking and the engine sputtered to a stop.
Every curse in the book had entered Gyro's lips as he scanned through the manufacturer's manual from the glove compartment and replaced the tire all at once on the side of the road. Cars whizzed by without one offer of help, and a chance breeze from the rushing and whooshing had sent his favorite hat sailing over the medians.
Just as Gyro thought a good samaritan would stop to help as a large monster truck slowed, Mark Beaks carelessly tossed his empty Pep can out the window, ricocheting it off Gyro's beak.
"Boom headshot! On vidya, hashtag 'GyroGotGyOWNED!' Later, pencilneck!" The Waddle CEO laughed hysterically as he sped off.
Gyro tried to throw the can back at the disgusting gas guzzler, but instead got a ticket for littering from a passing cop.
After finally getting the last bottle of motor oil at the store, Gyro was at the point he could hear his own blood pumping in his ears, sweat soaking his feathers. Once he had the limo back at the moneybin, he could go home. Start the day over.
Oh dear.
Trying not to think about that too much, he flipped on the radio, discovering the dial only went to one station, perhaps the trashiest one in town, run by the types of jerks who thought being needlessly cruel to people for pranks was funny. But it had to be better than nothing!
"It's time for another Whacky Laff Prank with Pete and Pauly!"
“-bzzzt- Hello? Is this Sharon Welsh of Silverbeak?”
“Yes?”
“How would you like to know you’ve just won ten million dollars?!”
“-gasp- I can’t believe it! After my husband took off with all the savings, I’ve been struggling to feed the kids and-”
“YOU’VE JUST BEEN PRAAAANKED!!”
“Wait...what?”
“I can’t believe she fell for that Paulie!”
“What a maroon!”
Yelping in disgust, Gyro flipped the radio off.
Left alone with his thoughts, staring at the hellish lights of 4pm traffic ahead, Gyro counted up everything he accomplished that day, versus everything left for him to do and realized he had done practically nothing. Barely a dent in all his work. And it would likely be the same tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that.
He wasn't just head of research and development these days! He was a lab custodian, unofficial babysitter, chore monkey, Gizmoduck's assistant, robot parent and failed limo driver! When did he actually have time for himself?!
Just as he realized how much he had to bear, Gyro's vision went dark as oil sloshed all over his glasses, his clothes, the groceries and the limo interior as Lil Bulb had curiously flung off the cap of the single bottle he had purchased.
And at that point, Gyro could have cried. But he was no good at that these days, even with the few video chats to therapists he could afford. So instead his stress came out like steam from a tea kettle, loud and shrill.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
The scream would have put the lab banshee to shame, and without another thought, Gyro swerved the limo across the two lanes of traffic, causing all oncoming cars to screech to a halt as he stomped on his own brakes.
Trembling, stone cold silent, he calmly turned off the ignition and set the parking brake, staring ahead at the city horizon, not blinking once.
After fifteen to twenty seconds of utter confusion, a bus driver stepped out to go over to the front window, tapping on it impatiently as Gyro continued to glare ahead.
"Look buddy, this had better be good!"
The driver just about jumped out of his socks as he swore the noise Gyro made at him was akin to that of a raging lion, shaking the car windows. Without another word, the driver backed up and retreated to the bus.
After ten minutes, people had begun getting out of their cars on both sides of traffic to gaze upon the blockage. Some jeered and made faces at Gyro. Some took selfies. Some took the opportunity to sit on their cars' roofs.
"Hashtag 'being held hostage on the highway', hashtag 'rlly scared y'all''' Mark Beaks live blogged via Tic Tac. "Honestly considering suing homeboi for emotional distress when this biz is all over. Hashtag 'trauma bomb'."
When Officer Cabrera finally made it to the scene, the last thing she expected was seeing her son's jerk boss holding up traffic in a limo.
Taking off her sunglasses, she sighed, "Do you want to explain this to me, or do I have to get Gizmoduck?"
“Roxanne Featherly here, live at a most unusual mid-day traffic jam, and we’ve just now discovered it is the doing of a disgruntled blue-collar employee, refusing to move. We’ve attempted to initiate an exclusive interview, but the suspect hasn’t acknowledged any news coverage.”
“Eugh, what is it with employees these days, making a scene over the most petty of nonsense,” Scrooge walked past the television as Della and Huey watched the breaking news that interrupted their Dr. What program. “I’m just glad I had the smarts to hire people with tougher stuff, eh?’
The dark limousine window rolled down in front of the camera to reveal Gyro’s steely glare, and all three ducks nearly choked.
“Bless me Bagpipes!” Scrooge nearly planted his face on the screen in disbelief.
“Y’know I can’t decide if this is concerning or funny,” Della thought aloud.
“Does Gizmoduck know about this?!”
Huey’s fretting almost seemed to have summoned both Fenton and Gandra as they rushed into the manor.
“Are you guys seeing this too??”, Fenton’s partner held up her phone, showing the live feed of the traffic jam, “We left him alone all of two hours, I swear!”
“I don’t know what wormed its way into that lunatic, but I want you to put an end to it!”, Scrooge pointed at Fenton, “I can’t afford to fire him, but I can’t afford this nonsense either!”
Lil Bulb took the opportunity of the holdup to allow himself to sit atop the limo’s roof and get a suntan (even if that wasn’t possible). Gyro was adamant to stay exactly where he was on the road. No amount of police sirens, helicopters overhead, cars honking, or reporters at the window were convincing him otherwise. Why should he do what they wanted if his workload and string of luck wasn’t going to change? They’d just have to suck it up, like he’d been doing all these years.
“Gizmoduck!”, Officer Cabrera beckoned over her son and the rest of Team Science in tow, “I need you to talk some sense into him or at least tow the car off the bridge.”
“I...think I can try the former...but why couldn’t your team tow his car instead?”
Cabrera shot a judgemental look back at one of the officers who twiddled his fingers nervously, “We tried...but he growled at us.”
“Um...attention, citizen!”
“Gizmoduck?” Gyro finally snapped out of his silent seething freeze.
“I understand that you appear to be in some sort of distress, but I have to ask you to allow us to move your vehicle so traffic can go through!”
Gyro glared again at the steering wheel, hunkering down further in his seat.
Sucking in his cheeks, Fenton looked to his friends and mother as if to silently ask what to do next.
“I volunteer in the case of a taser.” Gandra raised her hand.
“I don’t want Gyro to hate us for this!”Fenton shook his head, “I want him to back down willingly!”
Huey stepped forward, holding a megaphone up to the armored duck. “Gizmoduck can’t get through to him. But maybe you can.”
After a quick diversion to discreetly ditch the armor, Fenton cleared his throat as he spoke into the megaphone.
“Dr. Gearloose?”
Gyro silently glanced over to him.
“Um, if this is about the tool I borrowed from you, I put it back.”
Gandra held back a small snicker, and Gyro did not respond.
“I…-I mean we -” Fenton gestured to the others in tow, “-all care about you. And we can all tell that something is bothering you.”
The disgruntled chicken’s steely glare seemed to falter into uncertainty, which prompted Fenton to keep talking, “And if you come out of the car, we all promise we’ll do what we can to make it better. Won’t we?” He glanced back at Huey and Gandra, urging them to show agreement.
“What Suit, said,” Gandra leaned into the megaphone, “No duck, or chicken, left behind.”
“Please, Dr. Gearloose?” Huey pleaded, stepping back to allow Boyd to join them from the crowd. The android was staring into the car with his pleading blue eyes.
Shifting his gaze from each of his coworkers and child, Gyro hesitantly gave a sigh, and slowly pushed the door open.
“Okay,” he mumbled tiredly.
The cheers of the drivers behind him as he walked to approach his team didn’t seem to phase him at all, and for the first time all day, Gyro managed to smile weakly as Boyd jetted into his arms for a hug.
“Hi daddy.”
“Hi.”
“CUFF ‘IM!”, Cabera’s second in command took over the operation, and suddenly Gyro was plastered on the asphalt, getting his wrists shackled while Boyd watched in confusion.
“Can you wait before resorting to that?!”, Cabrera scolded her team, nevertheless ushering Gyro over to a police car.
“M’ma?! C’mon that’s my old boss!”
“Sorry, Pollito, procedure.”
“Please don’t arrest my father, he’s innocent!”
“Don’t worry, miho . He’s just going to the station for a chat. A long one.”
“He’ll be making state license plates by the end of the week,” snickered Cabrera’s deputy.
“Would you shut up?!”, she snapped at him as she helped Gyro into the back of the car, closing the door, “If you ask me, sending him to jail would put the whole inventors union into a frenzy!”
By 8pm Gyro was a free man. Once word had gotten out that he had a breakdown over his workload, almost the entirety of the STEM field in Duckburg chipped in to pay for his bail. And Scrooge McDuck made a public announcement, albeit with Della and Donald both jabbing him in the back with his umbrella tips, that he would be offering extended vacation days to his employees.
“Well, would you look at that?” Fenton showed the front of the newspaper to Gyro, “Guess we can call this a victory!”
Gyro stared at the unflattering photo of him cuffed on the road with the headline, “Local Crackpot Holds Up Traffic, Helps Improve Labor Laws”, then quietly and neatly folded it into the garbage can.
He wasn’t even paying attention to Cabrera’s ramble as he reached into a desk drawer, pulling out a pamphlet Donald had given to him long ago, and began to read.
La Spa Serena, Cape Suzette
Founded on the principles of the first settlers of the Cape, La Spa Serena is nestled in the quiet foliage alongside the coast.
Walk along our beaches, play volleyball, practice meditation, enjoy fine cuisine, or take a soak in the sparkling blue of the waters outside your window! Here at La Spa Serena, you are the boss, and your only task is to relax!
“Come again, Dr. Gearloose?”, Fenton seemed surprised by the words that had exited Gyro’s beak as he slapped the pamphlet down.
“I’ve decided. I’m going on vacation.”
“Leave it to Uncle Scrooge to make Gyro pay for his own travel expenses to Cape Suzette instead of letting Launchpad fly him,” Donald snarked to Della as they watched the 9 AM train leave the station with Gyro on it.
“Ay, if he expects me to pay for the rest of his vacation, he can at least handle the ways to get there and get back home! What even is a train ticket these days? A ha’penny? A nickel? On credit?”
The twins stared at their uncle in silence.
Meanwhile, Fenton, Gandra, and Huey all stared over Gyro’s copious amounts of notes for lab upkeep for the rest of the week.
I trust this to be clear enough for your understanding, and manageable. If I am able to complete this list alone, then as a team, I would like to guess you would be able too.
“Wow, condescending, even in death,” Gandra shook her head.
“But he’s not dead.”
“Suit, the minute he touches a jacuzzi he’s going to burst into flames, he’s good as dead.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t argue about the mortuary status of Dr. Gearloose and instead decide who is going to complete which tasks? It’s like three pages,” Huey held the pages up to the other two.
“For a whole week?”, Gandra flipped through them, “That’s plenty of time for this stuff! Cleaning the floors? Checking switches? That sort of stuff can get done in an hour, kid.”
“Well, how about we each take one page, and check them off as we finish them?”
“Great plan, Huey!”, Fenton smiled
“Wanna bet we get almost a whole week off this way?”, Gandra smirked.
“M’ma has drilled into me that gambling isn’t a good idea.”
“Color me shocked,” his girlfriend rolled her eyes.
“I’m Johnny-”
“And I’m Randy!”
“On any other day we may be your kings of Ottoman Empire-”
“But today, we’re your guides, here to welcome you to La Spa Serena!”
“How do I turn this thing off?”, Gyro grumbled as he fumbled for the remote to his room’s television, and swiping a welcome pamphlet on the bed into a wastebasket.
“Now don’t touch that dial!”
Gyro hesitated to press the power button, giving the TV a wary look.
“We’re about to give you a virtual tour of the whole facility, just so you know how much is at your fingertips!”
“Ugh, alright, this better be good- whoof!” Gyro sat on the edge of the bed, not expecting the sudden sink of his butt into the soft mattress. After countless years of what was essentially plastic wrapped in quilted cotton, every sinew in his muscles was singing .
One of the roosters was on the screen playing tennis, whilst his brother received massages. And then the scene suddenly cut to them both playing water polo. And then what looked like exquisite food being served beside the beach. Gyro was beginning to wonder if he should write all of this down.
“Now before you go ahead and try to make a list of everything we’ve listed-” Gyro hesitated to grab the pen on the table, “Don’t sweat it! We’ve got it all written down on that pamphlet on your bed!”
Gyro grabbed it out of the wastebasket, mildly embarrassed.
“At La Spa Serene, it’s not your job to make lists! It’s your job to relax! Now start doin’ it!”
Turning the TV off, Gyro took a look around at the tropical furnishings of his room, the oceanic scenery out his window, and then the bed. King sized, and no robot children or pets wanting to share it.
Sighing in delight, he lay starfished across the whole bed.
He could get used to this.
“Ok, task one: Adjust all vent switches to ‘On’ setting,” Huey read aloud his part of the list, approaching a decent sized control panel of at least twenty switches that, aside from bits of tape with random numbers under them, looked completely identical.
None of this seemed too difficult, though the duckling, as he began flicking the nearest switches to him, only to be greeted with blinking red lights on the screen.
Error- Venting Order Incorrect
Frowning, Huey looked over his shoulder, “Hey, Fenton? Are the serial numbers on these switches the order in which you turn them on?”
“Ummm, I’m going to make an educated guess and say they are?”, the other called from the floor where he was busy untangling wires in a machine that had also been meticulously labeled, but were still more than a little tricky to undo.
“Okay…”, Huey hesitantly flicked the switch labeled 00001, but upon flicking the next number in order, 00002, he was greeted with another error screen. Confused, he peered around the corner of the panel and immediately felt his stomach drop as he saw another large panel of switches on the side of the machine, more serial numbers listed.
Gulping, Huey wondered if Gandra would want to switch jobs. But she seemed pretty occupied with her first task, testing Gearloose-patented nanites under a microscope, one by one.. Normally, this job was no stranger to her, she did it for her own projects all the time! But she hadn’t expected them to come in a bulk bin of 500 plus.
The amount of muttered curses coming under her breath was enough to concern Huey, so he decided it would have just been best to return to his own work. He looked at the second panel of switches, and after flicking the first switch, found a switch labeled 00001.5, flicking it. Who the heck labeled these things?
He only got to switch 00005.8 when he encountered the error screen again, and was instructed to restart the sequence. After a bit of an internal screaming fit, he turned to see L’il Bulb watching him, unimpressed.
“You know, you could help me out here, and tell me if there’s a shortcut to this.”
The tiny robot made what could only be translated as the closest thing to an eye-roll, and began hopping onto random switches without even looking at the numbers, finishing the sequence in less than a minute.
Picking his jaw off the floor, Huey steadied himself, and began to read the next task.
Turn off all vent switches in reverse order after twenty minutes.
“Do you want to help me with that part, L’il Bulb?”
The robot had since wandered off to his master’s desk, standing atop it as he stared out the window at the sea.
“Gyro, it’s people like you that I became a masseuse for a living. Your body is so sublime, these knots are melting away under my touch like butter.”
“Don’t flatter me too much, I'm taken, Carla,” Gyro mumbled dreamily into the cushion of the massage table as the burly woman worked her hands all over his back and shoulders. Good gravy, why hadn’t he ever thought to spend the lab surplus on hiring one of these?!
“What a lucky woman-”
“Man.”
“And where has he been all this time?”
“Riding on a mutated krill in the Arctic to study the zoological components of the waters for the last two months.”
“Isn’t that just the way with men? It’s always their mutated krill.”
“Don’t even get me started.”
“Would it be too much to try to contact Fethry to see if he can come back early? He knows all the lab management better than we do.” Huey slumped his face on the cafeteria table during their break.
“That’s how you know their relationship is serious,” Gandra muttered.
“His can-and-string has been on the fritz, and even then I don’t think he’d be back from the glaciers in time to help us out,” Fenton sighed, “I mean, we have all week. And if Gyro can get these tasks down by himself, then so can we.”
“Suit, I don’t want to stare at another nanite under a microscope for an entire month,” Gandra almost snarled, “We need some serious help getting all of this done. I don’t even think Gyro is human.”
“That’s factually incorrect!”, Boyd suddenly piped up out of nowhere, “We have biological proof that my father was indeed hatched from an egg by-”
“Wait, that’s it! Gyro’s whole family is a bunch of geniuses, why don’t we get some of them to help?`` Huey stood on the cafeteria bench.
“I mean, it’s an idea,” Gandra shrugged, “But how many of his family members do we actually have in contact?”
“Well, there is one,” Fenton scrolled through his Beakbook feed to find one of his strangest friend requests of time past, “And he’s not the most orthodox as we’ve been told, but apples don’t fall too far from the trees.”
“Wait, are we still going to The Cheesecake Factory?” Fulton looked around the lab in confusion after being escorted from the limo.
“Um, later,” Gandra ushered him over to Gyro’s desk, “So, your kid, he’s talked to you about all the stuff he does in here right?”
“Of course!”, the older chicken smiled brightly as he grabbed for his phone, “We talk every week! Sounds like he’s always got a lot on his plate here!”
“Y’don’t say!”, Fenton stood on the opposite side of the desk, “And would you happen to remember the steps for what he does in here? Or have any knowledge on how to make this go faster?”
“Well it’s just a lot of button pushing and number crunching right?”
“Kind of! And wiring, and programming, and cleaning-”
“Oh! Well I sure am good at cleaning. I did that for years!”
“In this lab?”
Fulton glanced at Gandra in confusion, then suddenly caught on and laughed, “Oh! You folks didn’t think I was some sort of scientist did you?”
“Well, aren’t all members of the Gearloose family?”
“The inventor gene skipped me and went straight to Gy-guy! My wife, rest her soul, made up for what I lacked, so to speak, so we ended up with a double genius.”
A double genius who can’t label switches properly , Huey suppressed saying.
“So what were you again besides a Shush agent?” Gandra tried to remain patient with Fulton.
“A janitor and occasionally a bookie if it could put bread on the table,” he smiled, “Did Gyro never tell you any of this?”
Fenton cleared his throat, “So um, your father, he’s a genius right? Would he be able to help?”
“I mean, if you dig him up, maybe”’ Fulton wheezed with laughter, unaware of the hope quickly leaving everyone’s eyes.
“We have a problem here then. Your son left us a huge laundry list of tasks to do while he’s on vacation, and we’ve barely made a dent in it.”
“Well if there’s three of you, shouldn’t that be plenty of hands on deck?”
“With all due respect Mr. Gearloose, we don’t think your son is human.”
“That’s fair,” Fulton rubbed his chin, looking at the list of tasks, “Well as for the cleaning chores, it looks like most of these things could be handled lickety-split if you had an automatic floor cleaner.”
“Mr. McDuck hasn’t approved our request for one.”
“Well,” Fulton scoffed, “He can go pound sand if you ask me! Give me an hour, and I’ll have you hooked up with a rental.”
“Where from?”
“I know a guy.”
“You know, any time I’ve ever been around mud, it’s usually cleaning it. Not whatever this is,” Gyro touched at the refreshing mask on his face, “And whatever this is, I’m liking it!”
“Glad to hear, Mr. Gearloose,” the attendant smiled as he finished applying the mud pack, and refreshed the cup of lemonade on the table nearby.
“Can I take some of this gunk home when I leave?”
“No, Mr. Gearloose.”
“Hooey.”
“I thought Fulton was talking about one of those little push cleaners,” Fenton shook his head, “Not whatever this is!”
“Well on the bright side, the floors are going to get clean about ten times as fast,” Gandra couldn’t help but be impressed at the size of the automatic floor cleaner. Last she had seen something like this was the zamboni at the hockey rink.
“How is it going to fit around all the desks though?” Huey frowned.
“Turn it tight on corners?” the rebel scientist hopped onto the driver's seat in front of the controls, “It shouldn’t be that much harder than a car, right?”
“I feel like every time anyone has said that, it ends up being harder,” Fenton frowned, “Maybe we should move stuff out of the way before we-”
Gandra yelped as L’il Bulb hopped onto the start button, beginning to scramble to find her way around the various controls to navigate the near-two-ton behemoth of cleaning power.
“Why is this thing so dang fast?!”, she shouted as she tried to find whatever button would make it stop before it crashed head on into Gyro’s desk. Slapping buttons, the nanites in her hands began to spark, and suddenly in a sputter of smoke, the machine began charging at high speed.
“Suit what do I do?! I can’t turn it off!”
“Can you turn it around?!”
“There’s no steering wheel!”
“Pull the lever in reverse!” Huey cried.
“Shoot shoot shoot!”, Gandra was yanking at levers as frantically as she could upon seeing the cleaner was about to ram the desk.
“Jump off!” Fenton ran to catch her, slipping on the soapy trail the machine left behind.
Gandra stuck the landing onto a rolling chair, and all three were left to watch the cleaner meet a terrible fate.
Luckily, since the now dented rental machine was under Fulton Gearloose’s name and card number, that wasn’t their main concern.
Gyro’s desk was another story.
“Okay, so according to step three, we use the allen wrench to tighten the screws on this leg of the table, then we can attach this part here to- hey Huey did you take the allen wrench?” Fenton called from the pile of scattered Flykea desk parts.
“I think Gandra had it.”
“Don’t look at me, I’m mopping,” the scientist grumbled at the other two as she was forced to manually do what Fulton’s rented machine couldn’t.
Fenton began to look around for wherever the disposable tool may have gone, then caught sight of L’il Bulb perched atop a rolling chair, using the wrench to tighten pilfered screws into boards in what looked like a crudely constructed bust of Gyro.
“We don’t have time for arts and crafts right now!” Fenton shook his head at Gyro’s invention, taking apart the piece, “We need this stuff to replace Gyro’s desk.”
L’il Bulb’s bright red rage glow usually was enough to scare the duck, but evidently not this time as Fenton ignored it to return back to work, and did not see the red fade to the glow of a lonely blue.
After what was perhaps the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long time, Gyro took the day to rediscover parts of himself that he’d long since forgotten.
Like how he evidently did once have an athletic streak from high school via beach volleyball. And that he actually quite enjoyed swimming at the beach. And that he was actually quite gifted when it came to outdoor hot yoga.
And that he sunburnt a little too easily. A soak in one of the hot springs was proving to be more than enough of a fix for that though.
“Um sir,” an attendant piped up meekly to him, “You aren’t exactly supposed to eat those-”
“Then why are they here?”, Gyro frowned, mid-chew of a loose yuzu fruit that had been floating in the water.
“Well they're more for adding essence to the waters-”
“But they’re edible, yes?”
“Yes but-”
“Carry on then,” Gyro waved the girl off, resisting the urge to blow bubbles in the water.
“I can’t believe we didn’t think of this earlier!” Fenton almost laughed as he and Gandra wheeled out the portable re-purposed oxygen chamber, “Gyro’s got enough cloning technology to rival the Starling Wars movies! We can just create copies of him to do the work for us, and then call it a day!”
“He’s totally going to admonish us for cheating,” Gandra snickered.
“But here’s the best part! We can just erase the clones right after! I’ve seen it happen before,” Fenton insisted, hooking up tubes to the chamber, and one into the top of a large barrel of cloning spray liquid. “Huey, did you find a sample of his DNA?”
Huey tossed a vial over to the other, “Boyd and I got some of his sweat out of his laundry hamper!”
“Perfect! Everyone step back-”
The three watched in hushed silence as the various liquids came from the tubes and into the top of the chamber, where there was a sudden flash of light and sparks.
When the light and smoke cleared, what appeared to be a perfect clone of Gyro stood in the chamber, perfectly still.
Everyone watched with held breath to see what he would do. For ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty.
“Um. He’s not even moving suit,” Gandra approached the chamber to open the door, and check the clone for some sort of pulse. As soon as she touched the clone, he yelped and bolted out of the chamber, rushing to hide behind something.
“D-Dr. Gearloose, are you okay?” Huey tried to follow the clone, and was answered by more unintelligible screaming.
“Oh no, I think the clothes you got the sweat from were his friday night duds,” Gandra muttered, “You know how he is on friday nights.”
“I don’t, and maybe I shouldn’t ask,” Huey frowned at her, very concerned.
“Maybe we have to give him commands to get the ball rolling,” Gandra looked to Fenton, who was peering over the table where the clone hid.
“Um, Dr. Gearloose, I command you to-”
Suddenly the clone was up on two feet, looking absolutely mesmerized at Fenton, and made grabby hands, “ MAAAAN!!! ”
“Are you okay, I- AH!!”
“ MIIIINE .”, the clone suddenly had his hands all over Fenton, holding him like the world’s most precious teddy bear.
“Oh my god, Suit, I think he likes you,” Gandra could barely hold back her laughter, trying to find her phone to take video for sake of future potential blackmail.
“I don’t like this!” Fenton looked to her as he tried to gently break loose from the lovesick clone, “Can you help me get him off of me?!”
“Wait wait, see if he’ll obey you first. If he’s that in love with you, he might do whatever you say!`` Huey suggested, holding up the chore list.
“Ugh ok ok, um,” Fenton squirmed a bit, dodging a sloppy cheek kiss, “If you love me, please let go of me!”
Automatically, the clone let go, grinning dopily at Fenton with a wall eyed stare.
“Thank god,” Fenton hissed under his breath, then handed the list to him, “Okay, I want you to read this task list and complete everything on it as instructed okay? Do you know how to do everything on this list?”
“ UH-HUH! ”, the clone nodded aggressively.
“Great! Get to it then!”
The three could almost see the gears turning in the clone’s head as he stared at the list for a good half minute. Then without another word, he walked over to one of the computer monitors. And then after a pause, began to smash the screen with his face.
“AGH NO, STOP STOP-” the three ran over to frantically try and stop the clone from destroying the lab, to no avail.
“Suit we gotta get rid of this guy!”
“I know what to do! These things are basically bags of air, any sort of physical injury should poof him out of existence-” Fenton grinned as he grabbed a pen off a desk, and without hesitation, jammed it into the clone’s back.
But instead of a clean burst of air and particles, the clone stood tall, screaming in horror and agony.
“SUIT WHAT THE HECK?!”
“I THOUGHT HE’D POOF!”
“ WHYYYYY?! ” the clone screamed.
“MAKE IT STOP!”, Huey yelped hysterically, as Fenton grabbed the pen, and stabbed the clone again, which did nothing except make the clone scream more.
“THIS IS EVEN WORSE!!”, Gandra shrieked, and frantically, she slammed her palm nanites onto the clone, screwing her eyes shut as the electricity coursed through the artificial being’s body, and after one last scream, he vanished out of existence, leaving all three standing in a mortified circle.
Gandra and Fenton stared at each other in horror, and Huey looked ready to burst into tears. After almost a minute of petrified silence, Fenton smoothed out his feathers, and took a deep breath.
“Um. Okay, so maybe we should call it a day then. Reconvene tomorrow? Go home and shower...have a hot meal…call a therapist??”
“I think I want to sit on the floor for a bit and rethink everything.” Gandra mumbled.
“Mommy.” Huey almost sobbed, barely a whisper.
Fenton felt something tug at his foot, and looked down to see L’il Bulb clutching a fried bow-tie left behind by the clone, and shook his head, “This isn’t a good time to play, L’il Bulb. We have a serious problem, and it’s become clear that only Dr. Gearloose can solve it.”
“Maybe we should call him-” Gandra piped up, only for Fenton to shake his head.
“We promised him his right to a vacation, and we have to keep it. We’ve got a couple more days to get this all figured out. We’ll need all hands on deck, Boyd, Manny, and L’il Bulb included.”
The latter’s blue glow went unnoticed yet again, becoming the last remaining light in the lab as everyone went home, long into the night.
“Seaweed wrap...hot sand immersion treatment...hula class...basket weaving...hm…” Gyro looked over the checklist of activities on the pamphlet that he’d been going off of, and tossed it in the wastebasket, “Seems I’ve done just about everything here.”
Splayed on the bed, adorned in leis and a neck pillow, Gyro decided no time was a better time than now to rest his eyes, and flip on the TV.
“Hey there!” the Ottoman Brothers popped up on the television, “By now you’ve probably seen all of what La Spa Serena has to offer!”
“Uh-huh,” Gyro smirked at the TV.
“But remember! We can’t tell you how to make your experience complete here!”
“Yeah?”
“When you stay here, you’re the boss!”
“So you go ahead and tell us what YOU want to cap off your good time here.”
Gyro hummed in thought as he watched the two roosters on the television paddle away in their little pedalboat on the sea, off into the sunset.
Normally he wasn’t always the best at deciding for himself how to relax. That pamphlet he’d been given had at least given him some sort of ideas on what to do while he was here. Otherwise he’d have felt like the most logical thing to do would be to wander aimlessly in the room and call work and-
Oh screw it. Gyro yanked the phone off the receiver and dialed.
“Room service? This is room 306. I’d like a banana split with extra whip cream, no pineapple. And some cherry cheesecake.”
He paused, then swallowed the last lingering bit of doubt, “And a bottle of vodka!”
Within less than an hour, Gyro had found his bliss in a fresh bubble bath, mid bite of a dessert, two shots of his drink of choice, and the most indulgent guilty pleasure of chick flick movies on the television on the wall. He let himself sink fully under the water for just a moment, letting himself blow bubbles, then surfaced back up with plenty of fragrant frothy bubbles in his hair.
Worth it.
“Boyd, would you please tell L’il Bulb to fix the wiring in the computers?”
“I thought he was with you?”, the little android frowned as he finished organizing Gyro’s new desk on Fenton’s request.
“He didn’t come home with you last night?”
“I don’t think so! I just assumed he had stayed in the lab all night.”
“Wait. So, if you haven’t seen L’il Bulb, and I haven’t seen him- has anyone seen him?”, Fenton called out to his team and their semi-willing volunteers trying to complete all the chores.
Everyone looked at each other for some sort of answer, but when people began to shake their heads, Fenton knew something else had gone wrong, and his stomach began to knot.
“Oh blatherin-” he covered his mouth to avoid accidentally activating the suit, “Everyone start looking please!”
“I have a tracker in my programming to find him!” Boyd piped up, eyes glowing briefly as he activated it, only to suddenly start sputtering.
“What’s wrong??”
Brow furrowing in confusion, he looked up at Fenton, “Oh dear. It seems he’s deactivated his tracker.”
“What?! Oh dios mio, Gyro is going to have my head for lunch if L’il Bulb is missing.”
“Can’t we just replace him with one of the fifty billion light bulbs in here?”, Gandra held up a lamp.
“Nope, Gyro will know exactly which one is the original, he can see it from a mile away!”
Lena paused her sorting task, and attempted to use her magic to foresee where L’il Bulb may be. Frowning, she shook her head, “Can’t sense him anywhere, sorry nerds.”
“He couldn’t have gone far,” Beakley assured, finishing her share of the cleaning and looking to Manny, “Whoever has their tasks completed can start looking for him.”
“Yeah, take it easy,” Della wiped grease from her hands, “That little metallic menace goes off on his own little hell-ventures all the time. And we’ve got until tomorrow.”
Just before Fenton could take a breather, his cell phone rang, and he gulped upon seeing Gyro’s face on the ID.
He answered with a nervous laugh, “Oh, speak of the devil, Dr. Gearloose! We were all just talking about you here!”
“All?”, Gyro was leaning on the edge of the bath as he relaxed in the water.
“Oh, you know, me, Gandra, Huey, Manny, and absolutely nobody else,” he gritted through his teeth as he glanced at everyone in the lab.
“Ah. Well, I must say, I feel so much better.”
“Great! Great, um. Say, Gyro, how would you feel if I told you your cat ran away?”
Gyro gasped, “That’s awful!”
“W-well good news, she didn’t run away.”
“Oh. Good?”
“Yeah! All is good! No problems here!”
“Great. Well, I’ve decided I’m ready to return. Have Launchpad pick me up at the train station in two hours please.”
“Tw- but I thought you had one more day!”
“Eh, I think I’ve had my fill of pampering here, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start to miss Duckburg already. Besides, I’m saving Mr. McDuck one day off an itemized bill and I’m sure Boyd and L’il Bulb are both missing me very much.”
Crap! Fenton tried to laugh genuinely, “Yeah, for sure! They’re both missing you terribly!” And L’il Bulb was missing, period!
“Great. See you all this evening.”
As soon as Gyro hung up, Fenton flung his phone to some dark corner of the lab, and ran for the nearest garbage can to scream in.
“So I take it we’re really screwed?”
“We have two hours to get everything in this lab looking like we didn’t have any problems in it, AND we have to find L’il Bulb!” Fenton cried out, nearly tearing his feathers out, “Is it too late for me to quit my job and change my name to-”
“Hold that thought Suit, getting a call,” Gandra held up the lab phone.
“Sorry to interrupt your mad-dash chore challenge but I think you’re missing something,” Violet spoke over her emergency cell phone as she and Webby stood on the beach, in front of a washed up mannequin of Gyro that Mark Beaks had slopped together ages ago for his racetrack.
L’il Bulb didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact it had a goofy face or was made of plywood and paint, it was the closest thing he had to his father, and he clung to it with no plan to move anytime soon.
“Aww, you’re missing Dr. Gearloose,” Webby smiled in understanding as she tried to pry the little robot from the figure. The bulb’s lonely blue glow shifted to red hot warning immediately, and Webby backed away with a soft yelp.
“L’il Bulb!” Fenton shouted over the phone, “We need you back at the lab, otherwise Dr. Gearloose is going to chop me into little pieces and feed me to Fethry’s lobster.”
L’il Bulb made no move, deciding he liked that outcome.
“Pleeease? I’m sorry if you felt like we were ignoring you this week. I know you miss Gyro, but he’s coming home tonight instead of tomorrow! Everything will be back to the way you like it.”
Flickering in thought, the little robot eventually let go of the figure and hopped on Violet’s head, pointing towards the Money Bin off in the distance.
Gyro had only expected Launchpad to be waiting for him at the station, not his entire team of scientists and interns as well as a good chunk of the Duck family. Nor had he expected crudely but lovingly made ‘Welcome Back’ signs.
“You’re back!”
“We missed you!”
“You smell like vodka and coconut now.”
“What happened to your feathers, they look sunburnt.”
“Can you wear that tropical shirt at work?”
“Louie made Boyd eat a worm for ten dollars, he’s okay though.”
“Did you bring us souvenirs?”
“Um, I really didn’t think I was that horrifically missed,” Gyro managed to choke out when he was covered by grabby hands and arms in a multitude of desperate hugs and voices overlapping each other in endless questions.
Fenton and Gandra broke through the mob to stare at their boss, feathers disheveled, and bags under their eyes.
“Dr. Gearloose. I speak for everyone on your team when I say this,” Fenton said hauntingly, “Do not ever leave us in charge of your lab again.”
“Ever,” Gandra echoed.
“I watched you die,” Huey suddenly added, standing between Gyro and the couple.
“Pardon?”
The next morning, the three subordinates could only watch in absolute disbelief as Gyro managed to handle all the switches on-and-off, wiring, cleaning, and miscellaneous daily tasks he had trusted them with in his absence without a single complaint, and all before lunchtime.
“I really don’t get how you do it,” Fenton shook his head, watching Gyro refill his coffee cup before returning to his desk, “All this time I thought you were giving me the biggest load of work as an intern, but you had my job threefold.”
“Well that’s quite an exaggeration, but I’ll accept the praise,” Gyro snorted.
“But really. How do you do it?”
“Day after day of routine and tweaking my methods to shorten the amount of time spent on it? I didn’t expect you all to get the whole list done, to be fully honest.”
“But you make it look so easy!”
“Years of being in charge of everything after the department whittled down to just myself can prove to be quite the stamina builder in terms of work ethic. And before I had hired any interns, I had those tasks too,” Gyro snorted matter-of-factly.
“I forgot that you used to have a team working with you before the Spear of Selene,” Huey rubbed his arm, “That must have been tough.”
“Eh. Sometimes you gotta adapt, kid.”
“That’s...honestly kind of incredible, Dr. Gearloose,” Fenton looked a little awestruck.
“I want to say I have a newfound respect for you, but that would mean I have to respect someone who dresses like an eighty year old popcorn salesman every day, so just pretend I said something,” Gandra quipped.
“Or you could have said nothing and I would have just pretended you don’t exist like I already do,” Gyro shot back with a smirk.
“Wow, I missed you, glasses.”
“And I acknowledge your contributions to my department. Now get back to work.”
Watching his colleagues scatter, Gyro kicked back in his seat for a brief respite to watch them at their individual desks, and to watch Boyd and L’il Bulb test the first batch of product from his new hybrid corn harvester and popper. A little oily, but nothing that couldn’t be tweaked.
Earlier that day, Gyro had set his expectations clearly with both his team and Mr. McDuck. He was more than willing to run the lab himself most of the time. But sometimes, he needed time for himself. And for others not to shoulder him with their work. And he was actually starting to like the idea of some days working from home.
And this was only day one, so things were sure to have their problems later. But for some reason, Gyro could already sense that he had nothing to worry about.