Teleportation Troubles!

The terror that flaps in the night. The last bite that evil cannot finish! Its name is... Darkwing Duck! And accompanying him on this fateful day is three other fine citizens: Launchpad McQuack, his #1 fan. Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, the ingenious inventor for the violet vigilante. And Dr. Gyro Gear-- “No. I don’t want any part of this.” The scientist was wearing more casual clothes than usual, dragging a rolling suitcase, and heading for the elevator. “I’m taking a day off.” As he entered the elevator, he turned around and locked eyes with Fenton. “Don’t screw up my lab while I’m gone, Dr. Intern.”

The elevator doors shut while Fenton was trying to to affirm his boss. Darkwing broke the following awkward silence by loudly correcting his prior intro. “TWO other fine citizens! I wouldn’t have it any other way. Between the three of us, we can--”

Launchpad eagerly interjected by saying, “Stop all crime in Duckburg and St. Canard?!”

“...Eventually! Perhaps the invention of our dear friend Fenton can help with that task?”

Fenton perked up. “Yes! Recently I’d been thinking about how you get around town. Gliding and climbing and grapple hooks are very cool and all, but what about something faster?” The duck walked across the lab to a desk with a white cloth covering something small. He pinched the top and said, “To you, I present the all-new, never-before-seen, Warp Oneself Otherwhere Spontaneously Handheld!” He pulled the cloth, revealing a circular gadget that looked like it would slide onto a wrist. “Otherwise known as... the Woosh,” he said with his best imitation of Darkwing’s dramatic style.

Launchpad geeked almost immediately. “It looks so cool!! Can I try it? What does it do?”

Fenton picked up the device and said, “You cannot try it, but to put it simply, this device lets you teleport across distances in an instant!” He put it on his own wrist, pressed some buttons on it and then pointed towards an empty spot across the room. With a squeeze of his fist, a cloud of purple smoke appeared where he stood. Launchpad and Darkwing’s eyes opened as that happened, then they jerked their head to the left when they heard another smoke cloud appear. Fenton emerged from it with his arms spread and said, “Ta- cough -da!”

They ran over, each excited. The two of them grabbed Fenton’s arm and examined the gadget despite his complaints. They kept talking about how it reminded them of various different episodes and references from the Darkwing Duck show. Fenton was a nerd but not that kind of nerd... also he was getting paid for it. Well, not exactly for this, but it was fun to invent stuff! “Guys, guys!” LP and DW shut up for a minute, focusing on the smaller duck who had finally managed to speak over them. “Drake, would you like to give it a go? It is meant for you, after all.”

Darkwing’s composure shifted from fanboy back to stoic superhero. “Thank you, Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera. I--”

“Oh I’m not actually a doctor, Dr. Gearloose just--”

“--will put this to great use stopping crime in our cities! I’m glad you came to Darkwing Duck rather than that mechanical menace, Gizmoduck, since--”

“Well Gizmoduck doesn’t really need a tele--”

“--I’m clearly the superior vigilante!” With that, Darkwing slid on the gadget. He stared at the device on his wrist for a few moments before he looked up and said, “How do I use it?”

Fenton chuckled with a bit of amusement at his struggle following that whole speech. “Here. Most of these buttons aren’t important for you, so you just press the green button to arm a teleport. Then aim somewhere, clench your fist, and poof! You’ll Woosh right over. Just be careful about where you’re going.”

He backed up while Darkwing practiced aiming his arm around. Launchpad stood next to Fenton giddily and said, “Man, this is awesome. I always wished I could just teleport from place to place, except then I wouldn’t be able to drive from place to place, so that’s no fun. Wait, if everyone had these, would I be out of a job?” Before LP could seriously entertain that derailing train of thought further, Darkwing rather suddenly vanished and reappeared near the elevator.

The two not teleporting swiveled to face him. LP raised his hands in the air and shouted, “NICE!” Darkwing seemed almost shocked that neither he nor the gadget had exploded. After the purple smoke dissipated some more, he cackled once the feeling of teleportation hit him. He could go anywhere with this! Every unexplained entrance Darkwing Duck (on the show) made he could now do in real life. Once again he hit a button, aimed, and warped. And again. And again. Launchpad, struggling to keep track of all this just said, “Oh man DW, I can hardly even tell where you are! But just imagine you could be in front of someone, poof! Now you’re behind them. Poof again! Now you’re above them. Poof again! Right, left! Bam, pow!”

He started to act out the actions he was imagining, meanwhile Fenton was feeling a little more nervous. He didn’t see anything going too wrong with the device, though the purple smoke bombs he’d implemented were making it hard to see what was going on. The main thing he was worried about was overloading it with how frequently Darkwing was using the teleport. “Darkwing? Not to put a damper on things, but would you mind slowing down? I think you might be overloading the Woosh!”

Unfortunately he wasn’t listening. Over the sound of himself teleporting and his own monologue beginning, he couldn’t hear the scientist’s concerns. Instead from around the room, they started to hear the Darkwing Duck intro start. “The terror that flaps in the night!” From behind. “The gargoyle at the height of sin!” From somewhere above. “Th shrk tht trrzss yrr nghtmrs!” He blurbled from inside the aquariums on the side of the lab. That particular teleport made Fenton want to tear his feathers out, but at least he’d designed it to be waterproof.

A water-logged Darkwing Duck finally reappeared in front of them and wringed out his hat. He threw his hands in the air and said, “Its name is... DARKWING DUCK!” Launchpad clapped eagerly while Fenton tried to say something. One more time to finish, Darkwing extended his arm out. Hardly even looking where he was aiming he said, “Let’s.. Get... Dangerous.” Then he vanished. The two ducks remaining waited for his reappearance but it was... taking a while?

Eventually Launchpad spoke up and said, “So uh... Where’d DW go, you think? St. Canard? The moon?”

Fenton was really nervous now. “No, no he couldn’t have! The Woosh can’t go that far, it can go through walls a little but the lab’s so big we would be able to see him.” He rushed over to a laptop while Launchpad stayed where he was, feeling butterflies in his stomach. Fear? Darkwing would be fine, right? “There must be some interference... Logs, logs... Aha! According to this, the destination should be somewhere in this room.” Fenton muttered some more technobabble, but the butterflies in LP’s stomach were starting to turn into something else. He looked down, seeing his belly bloat beneath his jacket.

“Uh... Fenton? I think something’s happening...”

“Just a minute LP! I’ve almost pinpointed his location...”

By the second Launchpad’s belly was extending, groaning. He started to see white feathers peeking out from under his jacket, then bursting through the teeth of his zipper. Finally his jacket popped entirely, the brown leather splitting apart to fully reveal his green shirt riding up from his now massive belly. It was as large as his entire chest but not nearly as tight, instead sagging down to his knees. It was heavy too, if it weren’t for his leg strength he might have fallen to the ground from the sudden growth.

Fenton exclaimed, “Got it! According to this, Darkwing should be right--” He turned around and saw Launchpad sporting a new huge gut. Launchpad looked at him, just about equally shocked, then his face contorted and he belched up a cloud of purple smoke. His gut started to develop shifting lumps, clearly occupied by somebody unhappy to be there. Fenton’s jaw dropped as he quietly finished “--there.”

Launchpad gripped his gut, trying to make it a little easier to handle. “Ooog.” He burped up another small cloud of purple smoke and said, “Well, at least we found Darkwing. You okay in there buddy?”

Darkwing struggled against his surroundings, wondering briefly if he’d somehow teleported into an evildoer’s bag and was being kidnapped. But then the belch, the fleshy shifting walls, and finally Launchpad’s own close voice made him start to realize that wasn’t the case. Though he didn’t want to say what he thought was the case. “L-LP? I’m fine but... where am I?”

Before the stuffed duck could respond, he suddenly noticed Fenton marching up and looking remarkably angry. “You’re in LP’s stomach you... you... imbecile!!” He shook the gut around as if trying to throttle him, though it merely made Darkwing a little dizzy and LP burp yet again. “I can’t believe-- I mean I TOLD you to be careful. If Dr. Gearloose finds out he’ll fire me... again!” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Just aim the Woosh somewhere and you should pop back out just fine.”

Regaining his confidence, Darkwing shouted “Right!” The other two watched as a hand pressed out from Launchpad’s gut, then closed. Nothing happened, however. “Uh... Woosh, activate!” DW said, once again pushing his hand into the walls of the belly. Nothing. He looked down at his wrist. It was hard to make out anything in the dark of the stomach, but he did realize that the device was notably absent of light. “Uh... I think something’s wrong with your gadget, Fenton. It’s not letting me teleport.”

Fenton seemed equal parts mortified and frustrated by that knowledge, which in turn made Launchpad concerned. LP asked, “Well uh, how are we gonna get Drake out of my gut? That’s meant for decisions and food not... well, people.” His stomach gurgled a little bit as he said that, questioning how true that was. That said it also groaned at the squirmy duck inside it, who kept punching outwards to see if the teleport would work.

“I can figure this out. Dr. Gearloose trusts me. I’ve solved plenty of problems before.” Fenton paced back and forth, encouraging himself while trying to come up with a solution to such a strange issue. “The Woosh lets you travel across space... So that means... Space-time... I’ve got it!”

“You got a way to get DW out?”

“I think so. But I’m on a time limit, so I need to work fast and--”

“Oh relax Fenton, Dr. Gearloose won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“I’m not worried about Dr. Gearloose! I mean I am, but the more pressing matter is that if we don’t get him out, your stomach’s going to digest him!”

LP was shocked by the revelation. “But I wouldn’t-- I mean, he’s not food! Right?”

Fenton shook his head. “It’s out of your hands, big guy. You always go with your gut, right? Well to your gut, Darkwing’s nothing but the biggest meal you’ve ever had. So I have to work on this new gadget really quickly!” He walked over to a different desk from before and pushed off a ton of junk before throwing different junk on.

“I can try to get him out myself too! You hear that Darkwing? I’m gonna be your hero today. Launchpad McQuack, rescuing Darkwing Duck from the belly of Launchpad McQuack!”

Fenton waved him away saying, “Uh-huh! Now just give me about ten minutes so I can make this,” and got to work.

Launchpad got to work too. He may not be a super genius inventor, but he had his ways. Darkwing asked from within, “So I didn’t hear Fenton, but you have a plan, right?”

He nodded. “Yup! I always go with my gut. Well, not this time, but you’re gonna... get out of my gut. Yeah.”

“Okay, so, how are we going to-- Hurgh!” Darkwing suddenly found himself getting crushed, big hands pressing him downwards from outside. He didn’t have anywhere to go, so it just meant that rippled stomach walls smushed him even more than before. “LP! I can’t-- urgh! There’s nowhere for me to go! I can’t go any deeper!”

LP stopped for a moment to think, giving Darkwing a moment of respite. Then he felt hands grip the ‘ground’ below him and start pushing him into the top of the stomach. He coughed and sputtered as various liquids splashed against his face. He didn’t know where the stomach entrance was, but this wasn’t helping him get there. “LP! Stop!” The belly dropped back into its sagging position, allowing him at least a little more space. He touched the top of his hat, noticing it was utterly crumpled now and sighed.

“Hmm... Well if I can’t get you out by just pushing you up, I might have a smarter idea.” LP started to walk across the room to a minifridge, jostling Darkwing all the way. “This one time at a party I had a buncha soda. Then later after I ran around a lot, I started burping up tons of bubbles.”

“Where are you-- ugh-- going with this? And can you walk a little slower?”

“Sorry. But well if I drink enough soda... Maybe I could burp you up! Now if I know Dr. Gearloose, the man has a craving for ‘Pep!’, so...” He crouched down to open the fridge, causing his belly to flatten out on the ground. Then he ended up accidentally smushing Darkwing some more as he reached over him, inside the fridge and pulled out a big two liter bottle of the soda. “This should work! Watch out below, Drake!”

Darkwing had a bad feeling he knew what was about to happen. He heard gulping above him, then a stream of black soda started pouring onto his hat, spilling off its rim and raining down on him. It seemed almost endless, since Launchpad was chugging the entire bottle at once. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp... Aaaah. BuwwWWORRRP! “Oops, sorry! Although... That didn’t get you out, so I guess I’ll have to shake you up a bit.”

Before DW could complain, he felt hands once again grip him, this time on each side, and start shaking him up. Soda splashed all around him, utterly soaking him. Launchpad’s belly groaned and loudly sloshed as he shook it as much as he could stand, though soon he started feeling gas once again. After a moment’s pause, he let out an even louder BWWWWAAARP, cracking the nearby aquarium glass. From across the room he heard Fenton yell as politely as he could for LP to keep it down. “Sorry!” Yet still, Darkwing failed to escape in a cartoonishly large bubble.

Instead he was feeling incredibly dizzy, not to mention soaked in soda and other juices. With the shaking stopped, the soda settled to leave him half-submerged. He was starting to regain his senses, though he wondered if he was ever really going to get out of here. The stomach’s gurgling was getting louder and louder, especially after all the recent activity. Maybe he didn’t always need to get so dangerous when it came to things like this...

Just as Launchpad was starting to feel equally bad about the chances of getting Darkwing out in time, he heard Fenton exclaim from across the room. “I’VE GOT IT!” The scientist quickly ran over to where Launchpad and the bellied Darkwing were, holding some sort of ray gun looking device. “Behold, the... Well I haven’t had the time to come up with a name for it, but it should reverse the teleportation! Launchpad, stand very still.”

With that, he aimed the ray gun and fired at LP. A green beam shot out and made contact with LP’s belly, giving it a bubbly green glow. Then the glow spread to the rest of Launchpad, covering him in it. Quickly, its effects began to take place. LP’s gut shrank, although not to its pre-Darkwing size, but rather to about half its current size and much smoother. Then, other parts of his body began to grow in return. His jacket grew tight and his shirt tore as his arms and chest turned into flabbier versions of themselves. His pants ruptured as his thighs thickened. Even his neck and face suddenly grew fatter.

Finally, the glow faded and Launchpad was left a much heavier version of himself. His stomach was silent now, but he commented, “Oogh. I feel like I just had every holiday dinner at once. Did it-- uurp-- work, Fenton?”

Fenton’s ray gun slipped to the ground as he stood there, mortified. It... didn’t work. Maybe he forgot to invert its polarity or some other technical issue, but the effect was done. He walked up to Launchpad and leaned into his now squishy belly. “Darkwing...? Drake...? You there?” There wasn’t any real response, but he could hear it rumble. Then over his head, Launchpad released yet another wet brrruORRRP! This time some things did manage to make it out: A very melted Woosh and a singed blue sweater the purple protector always wore under his outfit.

It was all that was left of him now and they watched as it fell slowly to the ground. Launchpad was the first to speak up, panicking and saying, “I... digested Darkwing?! I can’t believe my gut would...”

Fenton sighed. “It’s my fault buddy, I should’ve been more careful.” Launchpad sat down on the ground and Fenton laid back against his tummy. “I’ll try to think of a way to bring him back though... He’s not gone forever.” After all, Drake was part of LP now. Some very... comfortable parts, he was starting to realize. He adjusted his seating to lean a little more into Launchpad, who was now about as firm as a beanbag.

Launchpad blushed a little as the smaller scientist started to find comfort in his newfound gains. Trying to focus on the digested superhero he said, “You can bring Darkwing back? How soon?”

With his eyes closed Fenton said, “Mmm... Not sure. I don’t want to really rush things... T-To avoid accidents like this, of course.”

“O-Oh... Right, yeah, makes sense.” There was a moment of half-awkward, half-affectionate silence before he continued, “Should I... try to work this off, or...?”

Fenton quickly turned around, pushed his hands down into LP’s paunch to prop himself up and shouted, “No!” Realizing how he said that, he shook his head and said, “I mean, um, the fat on your body might contain the key to reforming Darkwing... So you should hold onto as much of it as possible. Until I’m done.”

Launchpad smiled, growing to enjoy the idea. “Well... Okay! I carry stuff all the time so I think I can carry all these extra pounds for a few days. Or weeks.”

“Or months.”

“Or months! Wait, will St. Canard be fine during all this time?”

Fenton flopped back onto LP’s belly and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Gizmoduck can lend a hand while we work on this problem.” The idea was slowly becoming more and more appealing to Fenton in particular. He would be able to enjoy LP’s... cozier physique for a while and also not have to hear Drake complain about his alter ego to his face. He closed his eyes again, happily nestling his head into LP.

After a long, tender silence, Launchpad broke it with another question. “Hey, if you are what you eat... Am I Darkwing Duck now?”