The Thunderquack QK-23 superjet made a tight turn around Canard Tower before gently settling on the rooftop helipad of S.H.U.S.H. Headquarters. Its engines resigned to being shut down after emitting a metallic grind followed by a window-shaking sonic-boom.

Darkwing gritted his teeth as the flight canopy retracted. He glanced at his pilot, who was staring blankly at row upon row of red lights which had lit the control panel moments earlier and now blinked intermittently like chasing Christmas tree lights. Any hope Darkwing maintained that Launchpad would take the initiative to correct the plane's engine trouble without being prompted dissipated as he shrugged and turned on the aircraft's hazard lights.

"Launchpad, great job on the landing for once. But for the last time, don't just slam into reverse to slow us down! We've gone through three transmissions on this thing this week, alone!" Darkwing adjusted his fedora and brushed down the front of his double-breasted costume. A superhero could never look too polished.

"Sorry, D.W.," Launchpad said with a sheepish grin. "I just wanted you to see I could still stop this baby on a dime."

Darkwing sighed. "I need you to just stay here and fix the, er, whatever-it-is that you just broke. I'll be in and out for this debriefing, and I expect you to have the Thunderquack back in the air by the time I'm done. Got it?"

Digging his tool kit out from under the passenger jump seat, Launchpad flashed a winning smile at his heroic boss, who was already making his way to the roof access stairwell. "Yeah, sure. No problemo, D.W.!"

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