"Well, gee, D.W., she did make that little model of the city explode. Maybe she has powers like Morgana?"

"You think that little blond has magic? Pffth! So, she knocked over a candle and set the table on fire. That just proves she's accident prone. Maybe she's a relative of yours, Launchpad. Now, pack up our chairs. This stakeout is over!"

"So you know what the Fearsome Fi -- I mean, the Sinister Six, are up to?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. The only problem with these goggles is that they don't have audio capabilities. And I'm not very good at reading bills. Y'know, we ducks don't enunciate nearly enough. But I know something is going on. And that means I get to investigate!"

Darkwing strolled down the fire escape, already thinking of the headlines his next adventure would bring. Resigning to his duty, Launchpad gathered the remnants of his partner's stakeout -- two lawnchairs, an empty sandwich bag, a can of Koo-Koo Cola and a handful of gadgets. He paused for a moment, however, when the melodious cry of a fire truck siren distracted him.