DUCKTALES Fanfic Review: "The Reunion at Duckburg" by "Sosa Lola"

At long (and seemingly interminable) last, it's time to begin examining some of the very best Duckfic fantales!... Er, DuckTales fanfics!

Before I begin, I'd like to acknowledge my good friend Mark Lungo for his useful advice concerning these reviews should be organized.  In the Disney Afternoon apa WTFB, Mark developed something of a specialization in the assessment of fan-created prose works.  The "star" rating system for various features of the story is entirely my own.

You can find "Sosa Lola"'s "The Reunion at Duckburg" here on fanfiction.net.

.

** WATCH FOR FALLING (AND YAHOOHOOEEING, GOOFY-STYLE) SPOILERS FROM THIS POINT FORWARD -- OR DOWN, IF YOU PREFER **

.

THE STORY:  It's Spring Break time, and Goofy and a reluctant Max travel to McDuck Mansion for one of Goofy's periodic reunions with his old pals Donald and Mickey.  There are several reasons for Max' reticence: he's reluctant to get reacquainted with Donald's Nephews, who tormented him with pranks at the last reunion at Donald's house some four years ago; Uncle Scrooge, whom Max has never met, sounds like a grouchy old miser; Goofy's enthusiasm for the get-together just doesn't seem... cool.  (In case you're wondering: HD&L appear to be their DuckTales selves here, as opposed to the teenaged Quack Pack versions, while Max likewise seems to be in his Goof Troop form, rather than his older A Goofy Movie manifestation.)  Not wanting to be victimized yet again, and somewhat alienated by Huey and Dewey's slightly snarky attitudes towards him, Max tries to get "cold-served" revenge on the triplets with a prank of his own.  The gag winds up putting Dewey in bed with an injured ankle.  An angry Goofy grounds Max for the first time ever, meaning that he's left behind while the others go out to dinner.  Scrooge, who's been busy and absent up until this time, returns home to find the unfamiliar Goof kid.  The duo hit it off reasonably well -- so much so, in fact, that Scrooge brings Max with him to the Money Bin.  Scrooge has been fretting over a threatened attack on the Bin by the Beagle Boys, who are working for Magica de Spell.  Scrooge temporarily leaves his Old #1 Dime in Max' possession while he's investigating a suspicious noise inside the Bin, and Max is promptly knocked out.  He awakes to find himself in Magica's lair on Mount Vesuvius, where Magica is preparing to finish what she started in "Send in the Clones" and create an amulet out of the cherished coin.  One hitch, however: she needs some frogs' legs to complete the recipe.  (Um, since when?)  With a heavy load of guilt sitting on his shoulders due to his failure to protect Old #1 at the Bin -- not to mention his previous misbehavior -- Max must help the Duck, Mouse, and Goof rescue party set things right, a task that becomes all the more difficult when his beloved Dad gets turned into a frog by Magica...

Well, I certainly wasn't going to pick a dog (heh) of a story with which to start my review series.  This is a fine effort, a fanfic that both reflects the familiar and expected in a (mostly) accurate fashion and goes in several new, intriguing, and entirely believable directions.

Here are my evaluations of the individual components of the tale:

PLOT:  Just fine in Chapter 1 (which ends with Scrooge taking Max to the Bin), but gets a tad "overly convenient" in a couple of spots in Chapter 2, and goes completely haywire in one particular instance.  (***1/2 out of *****) 

"Sosa Lola" him/herself seems to have been uncomfortable about the notion of the Beagle Boys bringing the unconscious Max back to Magica's lair with them when there was no need for them to do so.  How can I tell?  Because Max HIMSELF wonders why they did it. Since Magica needs frogs' legs to complete the amulet spell (again, you tell me why) and later proves to have no compunction over turning both adults and kids into frogs and threatening to rip off their legs, you would think that this would be the main reason for going to the trouble of bringing Max along, but it turns out that Magica expected the Beagles to get real frogs instead.  What makes this all the stranger is that the Beagles don't even bother to capture Scrooge; Max is the only one that enjoys the privilege of being carted away.

The good-guy cavalry arrives at Mount Vesuvius very soon after Max does -- the others actually arrive in stages, with Minnie and Daisy (who, thankfully, are not on hand just to serve as eye candy; the same goes for Webby, BTW) flying in helicopters as backup.  I don't have a problem with this, given that Scrooge was left behind to raise the alarm.  But Louie insisting on parachuting out of Launchpad's plane beforehand, under the premise that a little kid like him would be able to infiltrate Magica's place more easily?  It rings true in a character-based sense -- at least in the context of this story, as we'll soon see -- but no way can I imagine Scrooge letting Louie do that on his own recognizance.

Which would be more likely to parachute solo into a dangerous situation?

Where I really must part company with "SL" is with his decision to set Max up to be the "fall Goof" by having Scrooge give Max Old #1 for temporary safekeeping.  Mind you, Scrooge had already taken a special precaution to protect the dime by removing it from its normal storage case and sticking it inside a "pencil box" filled with loose change.  It would make all the sense in the world to simply leave it in that atypical location, as opposed to putting it in the hands of a young kid whom Scrooge has just met.  Yes, Scrooge does treat Max with respect from the start.  Even given that fact, there's no bleeding way I can see him taking such a chance.

I can't even imagine Little Scroogie doing it.

CHARACTERIZATIONS:  The best part of the story, in both a good sense and a bad sense... if you can believe it.   (***** out of *****)

Apparently, "Sosa Lola" has written several other Goof Troop fanfics in addition to this one, so I would hope that he would have a handle on what makes Max Goof tick.  He turns out to possess rather more than that.  The Max that we see here is poised somewhere between the Max of Goof Troop and the Max of A Goofy Movie.  He's still the "polite kid" who desires to be "cool," is a mean foot (feet?) with a skateboard, and easily gets embarrassed at his Dad's pratfalls, but there are more than a few hints that Max' attitude towards his own "Goofitude" and his tendency to screw things up is beginning to sour into something rather more unpleasant.  "SL" ramps up Max' feelings of inadequacy as the story progresses -- making him feel bad over his prank going wrong, making him feel ashamed of embarrassing his Dad, giving him the guilt trip over "losing" Scrooge's dime, etc.  It gets to the point where Max is so filled with "guilt and self-loathing" that he even offers to sacrifice his life so that other characters won't be harmed for Magica's benefit.  Louie is so horrified at what Max had planned to do that he literally slaps Max in the face.  Even Goofy is tempted to do the same, except that he "doesn't believe in hitting children."  Now you see why I described Max as standing between two "poles."  If one wants to take this story as belonging to "Spoonerville canon," then this might be the very moment at which "Glad Max" morphed into "Sad Max."  It makes the "happy ending" seem just a bit hollow.

Louie's reaction to Max' intended self-sacrifice resonates all the more because Louie had previously treated the visiting Goof kid with far more thoughtfulness and kindness than either of his brothers.  When you realize that the Nephews are still their DuckTales selves, this is quite something.  Numerous other fanfics that I've examined, especially those set in the indeterminate future, have taken pains to give the boys distinct characterizations.  It's as if these writers wanted to go the Quack Pack route but didn't necessarily want to use the Quack Pack versions of HD&L.  This is the first fic I've seen in which such a distinction was applied to the DuckTales versions of the boys.  Louie's slapping of Max is all the more significant because Louie appears to be disappointed with Max for even contemplating such a thing.  Evidently, Louie had been determined to befriend Max from the start.

If you're wondering why Huey and Dewey had so much more of a negative reaction than Louie did to Max' presence... well, "SL" helpfully provides us with an explanation, straight from the Ducks' (in this case, Huey's) beak.  Apparently, HD&L had always been jealous of the fact that Max lived with and was cared for by his Dad, in part because of a guilt trip carried over from their own hell-raising days.  Add to this the fact that the boys were upset that Donald (who's still in the Navy) had been unable to get away for the reunion... The unanswered question here is, what caused Louie, in particular, to have a different attitude from his brothers'?  Was "SL" consciously or unconsciously drawing on the "big-hearted" Louie of Quack Pack, the kid who protected endangered "pugduddies" and so forth? 

You have NO idea, Donald...

HOMEWORK:  To be a really good fanfic, "attention must be paid" at some point(s) to what has gone before, even if only tangentially.  "Sosa Losa" is right "on point" in this area.  (***** out of *****)

There are many, many references here to "Send in the Clones."  In fact, the first part of the showdown at Magica's lair is close to a clone (heh) of what we saw in that first syndicated ep, right down to Huey giving Magica the most trouble.  Huey and Magica each make clear references to their previous encounter.  Some lines from "Don't Give Up the Ship" are shoehorned in, as well, and Dewey (who has to sit out the battle back in Duckburg because of his injury) is referred to by Louie as "always com[ing] up with great plans."

"SL" also makes references to several Goof Troop episodes, such as "Slightly Dinghy."  Goofy's "lucky horseshoe," which enters into the denouement, first appeared in An Extremely Goofy Movie, but it's easy to imagine Goofy having that object during the Goof Troop era, so I'll let the apparent anachronism slide.

Thankfully, "Sosa" didn't add "disco references" to his story. 

WRITING AND HUMOR:  The writing's serviceable, and, given that half of the tale is an adventure and some genuinely sober subthemes are present, there are some really funny lines.  It helps that "Sosa Lola" understands how these characters should sound.  (**** out of *****)

There's one really annoying misspelling -- "stake" for "steak" -- that should really have been corrected, especially since it appeared multiple times during the course of a couple of pages.  It's also difficult at times to identify who exactly is speaking; this is a particular issue during the character-choked finale.  Other than those nits, there are few problems here.

Launchpad doesn't have a whole lot to do, but, true to form, he does get the funniest line of the story.  Some of the banter between Max and Scrooge is  quite amusing, and it was easy for me to imagine the characters exchanging the dialogue in their "animated voices."

There is one peculiar moment at the very end of the story that I frankly don't quite understand.  Peg appears on the scene, and she and Scrooge appear to engage in a bit of.... innuendo??  Was this titillation really necessary?  I did get a chuckle about the plans that Scrooge has for Peg, though.  (They're NOT WHAT YOU THINK.  Remember, Goldie could always be lurking around the next corner inside a giant cake.)

OVERALL:  ****1/2 out of *****.  N&V RECOMMENDED.

This story is definitely worth DuckTales' fans' time.  "Sosa Lola" clearly put a good deal of thought into it, and the problems with the plot don't detract from the simple fact that it's an enjoyable read, albeit one with a slightly darker underside than you might expect.

.

.

.

Please feel free to send feedback on how I handled this first review.  Did I give away too much of the plot?  Do you approve of the categories I used?  Did you actually go and READ the darned story, and, if so, how did your reactions differ from mine?  I'd love to know.

When "Disney Afternoon" Universes Collide...

... and a certain piece of talismanic tender is at stake...

... what could possibly go wrong?  You'll find out when you read my initial DUCKTALES fanfic review, coming soon.

A POST-"DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE" PERSPECTIVE: "A Dime in Time"

Let's get right into the spirit of things and (mentally) travel 20 years back in time, to that fateful moment in 1994 when Joe Torcivia introduced himself to the "small but mighty" audience of the late, great Disney Afternoon-themed APA WTFB with the first installment of his now-legendary THE ISSUE AT HAND.  The comic that Joe reviewed in that first effort was Disney Comics' UNCLE $CROOGE #259 (October 1991).

U$ #259 was the third installment of an ingenious "Duck comics crossover event" dreamed up by Disney Comics Managing Editor Bob Foster.  "The Time Tetrad" linked together four unrelated Duck stories, all of which featured a spheroidal time machine created by Gyro Gearloose.

"Book One": "The Secret of Atlantis" by Byron Erickson (English dialogue) and Vicar, in DONALD DUCK ADVENTURES #17.  Any relationship to a story by Carl Barks, or, for that matter, a certain DuckTales adventure of more recent vintage, is hereby discounted with extreme prejudice. 

"Book Two": "Dirk the Dinosaur," the featured story in WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES #564, again by Erickson and Vicar.  Interestingly, this story was the first installment -- officially, it was labeled "Chapter 0" -- in an actual series of much lengthier time-traveling adventures which Inducks flags as the "Time Machine graphic novels." 

"Book Three": "The Only Way to Go/Travel," in the aforementioned U$ #259, yet another Erickson/Vicar joint.  Disney Comics' BETWEEN THE LINES list of the month's releases uses "...Travel," while the story itself uses "...Go."  Both versions of the title appear in Inducks.  And now my head hurts.

"Book Four" is our main concern for the nonce: DUCKTALES #17's "A Dime in Time", written by Bob Langhans and drawn by the usual assortment of "credited-by-name-but-in reality-all-but-anonymous" Argentinians who toiled for the Jaime Diaz Studios.

Unlike the other stories in the "Tetrad" series, "A Dime in Time" takes up the entire issue.  What's more, it ends with a scene the setting of which would have seemed quite familiar to those who had been following the DUCKTALES title.

That's right, we're going into overtime.  It's yet another Bob Langhans cliffhanger, of the exact same sort which so enlivened "The Gold Odyssey" (DT #9-15).  My opinion of the latter story has been on record for quite some time, and I see no reason to alter it in the wake of the short-lived Boom! revival of the DUCKTALES title.  When it comes to DT comic-book stories that appeared in America and captured the authentic spirit of the series... well, this is as good as it gets, folks.

Thankfully, "A Dime in Time, Part Two" turned out to be the actual conclusion of the story, as DT #18 (November 1991) ran smack into the onrushing shock wave that was "The Disney Implosion."  Dan Cunningham's coverage of the "Implosion" era (the link shown above) as part of his survey of the history of Disney Comics is as thorough an exposition as we are likely to get of the affair.  If the details are unfamiliar to you -- or even if you think they are familiar -- then I highly recommend that you read the whole thing.

Well, at least another Langhans multi-part story got into print before the heavens fell, right?  And this one is bound to rival "Odyssey," if not in scope, then in terms of overall quality.  Right?

When I reread "A Dime in Time," I found that I could remember no details about it whatsoever.  Evidently, my "memory bone" was unconsciously doing me a favor.  "Time" doesn't measure up to "Odyssey" in any way, shape, or form.  It doesn't come close.  From the evidence provided in the story, I'm not even sure that anyone who directly worked on this story -- writer, artists, editors -- was paying it more than the most cursory attention.

Even the much-admired Bob Foster can't escape some criticism here.  He had to vet the tale on the American end, and I can only excuse his signing off on some of the egregious continuity errors and sloppy storytelling that fatally compromise Part One as the result of a desperate desire to find SOME way to give DUCKTALES its place in the "Tetrad."  Part Two flows more smoothly, but is also somewhat duller, due to all of the action basically taking place in a single venue, and it doesn't end so much as stop, with an abruptness that is violent enough to give one literary whiplash.

We begin Part One with a typical DuckTales Beagle Boy raid on the Money Bin that proceeds in the expected fashion, "expected" being in the second-season sense.  (By contrast, "The Gold Odyssey" started with Scrooge already in the throes of high adventure, stubbornly snow-catting his way through an Alaskan blizzard.  Steee-rike One.)  Magica De Spell has been crystal-eye-balling the Beagle siege and has a better (but aren't they always?) plan to snag her eternal heart's desire, Scrooge's Old #1 Dime.  She's going to use a time machine to literally go "back to the Klondike" and snag the coin from young miner Scrooge.

Magica later describes the pictured gizmo as, and I quote, "a time-warper from the 23rd century."  And Magica acquired it how, exactly?  Sure, she's a sorceress, but she's not capable of something like THIS, is she?  Or perhaps she is.  As Langhans writes her throughout the story, Magica's powers appear to be "whatever is necessary to perform a particular task," including those tasks the achievability of which would seem to be above her pay grade.  Apparently, Langhans never stopped to consider that, if Magica had the inherent magical ability to nip ahead in time and steal a time-travel device, then she wouldn't have NEEDED a time-travel device in the first place.

I also have a problem with the whole notion of Magica snookering Scrooge in his virile, full-of-beans Klondike phase.  I had certain issues with Don Rosa's "Of Ducks, Dimes, and Destinies" (UNCLE $CROOGE #297, April 1996) when it first appeared, mostly related to the whole idea of mucking around with the charmingly simple (and, lest we forget, non-Barksian) idea of Scrooge obtaining Old #1 after shining a Glaswegian ditchdigger's boots, but Magica going back to 19th-century Scotland to take advantage of a 10-year-old Scrooge makes much more logical sense. 

Magica decides to put the device to a test (she should really have done that in the 23rd century, I'm thinking) by making the Beagle Boys younger.  In the process, she leaves the rest of Duckburg in the present.  I have NO earthly idea how that works. Nor can I savvy how the Ducks (well, Scrooge and Louie, at least) are literally able to sense that "something weird is going on here" in the space of a single panel:

Scrooge had last been seen chasing the Beagles with murder in mind two pages back, but mentioning that fact seems a bit like piling on at this point.  Seriously, HOW did Scrooge and Louie figure that out?!  I suspect that even "ol' Al Einstein" (how colloquial of you, Magica) would be unable to come up with a good explanation for this.  At this point, the story is falling faster than my old pants did when I tried to put them on after my post-surgery weight loss.

Magica takes off for the past in the Ducks' very faces, conveniently explaining her plan in the process. She even tells Scrooge her exact destination; she's headed for "Uppa Creek" in the Klondike, where she'll presumably find a general store selling "Ahilla brand beans" and "Aloafa brand bread".  Evidently, Magica has done enough research on Scrooge that she knows exactly where he hung out during his mining days, at least in this somewhat dubious version of his past.  Scrooge corrals Launchpad (whose participation, along with a couple of early-Barks-style HD&L rescues, arguably comprise the sum total of high points in this entire effort) for assistance, and the Ducks ask Gyro to get his Time Coupe out of mothballs.  It appears that the events of "A Dime in Time" are taking place a good deal of time after the events of the other three stories in "The Time Tetrad."  Well, Gyro did once say, "Toy with time and you're asking for trouble."  Perhaps he finally admitted to himself that he had been right all along.

See Gyro there, in the lower right hand corner, hiding the Time Coupe in the bushes?  Take a good, long look... because you won't be seeing him again.  That's right; the story still has 40-odd pages to go, and Gyro is nowhere to be found on any of them, even after the Ducks have moved on to another point in time.

Seriously... there are no words.  After this scene, Langhans evidently forgot that Gyro had been a member of the cast, and no one editing or reviewing the story caught the error!

Are there sharks in the Klondike, and is there a location where one can jump them?

Leaving Gyro in limbo for the duration, the Ducks head to town, where Magica successfully gets them in Dutch with the local authorities by framing them as wanted bank robbers.  In so doing, she proves able to materialize and manipulate whatever she requires in order to make the ruse seem at least reasonably convincing to the rubes.  I can kinda-sorta accept the magical puppeteering, but creating material objects out of thin air with her own bare hands?  Has Magica ever displayed that sort of ability before?

If the bottom panel of that page looks a bit more like the Old West than the Klondike... well, that's because the town of Uppa Creek gradually does morph into a Western town as the story goes on, with the snow cover being the only material difference between the two venues.  I guess that either Langhans didn't know about the true nature of the Klondike, or he simply didn't care and went with what he did know.

The captured Ducks are soon in jail, faced with a grim fate, which Langhans describes sans veils of any sort.

"We'll string up them no-good polecat varmints, eh?"

A wee echo, there, of some of the grimmer moments of "The Gold Odyssey," such as the magus being buried alive or Flintheart Glomgold being marooned on the planet Sarros.  Granted, HD&L are ultimately let off with life in prison -- perhaps their jail cell will be renamed the "uninvited guest room"? -- but this is pretty stern stuff for a DuckTales romp.  Or limp, "as the bee may case."

Meanwhile, Scrooge confronts young(er) Scrooge and demands Old #1, though she goes about doing so in a fairly slipshod manner:

Er, Magica, "that shiny dime" may not BE Old #1.  How can you be certain from that distance?  And how do you know that Scrooge's entire fortune is lying on his bed?  (Actually, we are led to believe that it is, but Magica couldn't have been expected to have known that.) 

The believably feisty young Scrooge doesn't take kindly to Magica labeling him a "jerkymonger" (isn't that someone who works for the Slim Jim company?) and knocks her down a hill, turning her into a giant snowball in the process.  She must get knocked unconscious, or something, because we quickly move back to Scrooge and Launchpad's meet-up with impending doom.

HD&L subsequently escape and, taking advantage of the fact that all of the spectators at the hanging are conveniently standing on one side of the gallows, pile up sacks below the trap door to break S&L's fall.  Before the supposedly-fatal-but-now-not-so-much drop, Scrooge commits what he really ought to know is a big boo-boo, especially in this venue.

Earlier, when faced with denying his ID as the notorious outlaw, Scrooge had tried to pass himself off as the fictitious "Jim Smith," which makes logical sense.  This... does not.  The potential effects of the goof are subsequently exacerbated when the newly-free Scrooge and Launchpad join with HD&L in helping Klondike Scrooge try to keep the dime away from Magica.  To be fair, Scrooge doesn't fall into the same trap again, saying more or less cryptic things like "we have a lot in common" and "[we are] kindred spirit[s]."  But I'm afraid that the empty bag is already lying on the ground, and the cat is nowhere to be found.

Now... when you consider that I had a major problem with the ghosts of departed members of the McDuck Clan helping to shape Scrooge's destiny in Rosa's "The New Laird of Castle McDuck" (UNCLE $CROOGE #289, December 1994), how easily do you think I bought THIS little scenario?  Putting aside the issue of the "lucky" dime for the moment, given the immense symbolic relationship that Scrooge will come to have with Old #1, it is tough to imagine him completely forgetting this series of incidents, which were most likely the first such to distinguish Old #1 from the rest of Scrooge's stash.  The possible impact of "remembering a meeting with his future self" on Scrooge's subsequent progress is, well, monumental.  For example, modern-day Scrooge makes the offhand comment that young Scrooge should "hold tight to that dime" because "it's going to carry you far in life."  Can you imagine a memory of that comment helping to buck up young Scrooge's spirits at difficult points in his future life... and consequently helping to dictate some of his actions?  I certainly can.  The fact that young Scrooge sees the Ducks and Magica taking off in their time machines, and that Old #1 suddenly returns to him, as if by magic, at the end of Part Two, would most definitely set him to thinking about the true nature of the mysterious visitors whom he'd previously called "daft."  He'd need something on which to cogitate during those long winter nights on Uppa... er, White Agony Creek.

When it comes to Scrooge's origins, I prefer keeping things as straightforward as possible.  No time-traveling interventions, ghostly buttinskys, or dumb-lucky oil strikes, please.  Rosa's LIFE AND TIMES OF SCROOGE McDUCK was a monumental and, generally speaking, worthwhile endeavor, but I tend to lean a bit towards the sentiment of longtime fan-friend Dana Gabbard, who opined (re Rosa's epic in WTFB) that Scrooge's background, as presented by Barks, was part fact and part fiction, thus rendering Scrooge a classic example of a mythical or legendary figure, like Paul Bunyan. Pinning such a character down with too many specifics tends to reduce him to "just another adventure hero with a well-detailed past."  When you start throwing fantastic elements into the mix... well, just as Gyro said happens when you "toy with time," you're asking for bad vibes to rear up and bite you.

Part One ends on that cliffhanger panel of Magica (who had just stolen Old #1 back from the Ducks) and our gang flying through... the intertemporal medium, I guess.  Launchpad's attempt to hitch a ride on the surface of Magica's time device proves unsuccessful but has the side effect of knocking her progress askew, sending her to the Old West (not to be confused with the Klondike, unless you're reading this story).  Not that the Ducks themselves know quite "when" they're going, of course... though, when the dime slips into a time vortex, Launchpad seems mighty confident in his ability to track it, no matter "when" it goes.  Nice of Gyro to have given the Ducks all the information they needed to artfully manipulate the Time Coupe before he... he... heeeeeeee...

Hopefully, someone will reseal the "Universal Plug" in time.

For the vast majority of the story's 19 remaining pages, we'll be spending our time in ancient Rome, shuffling through our dog-eared index cards listing all the "ancient Roman" cliches that have accreted over the millenia.  Greedy, self-centered, bloodthirsty emperor... check.  Arrogant Roman soldiers and gladiators... check.  Ducks (well, Scrooge and Launchpad) being thrown to the lions... check.  Vaguely appropriate "period insults" like "rabble," "cur," "carbuncle," "toad," "harpy," "plebian [sic] dog," and "wretch"... check.  (Scrooge is also called an "infidel," which belongs to another period entirely.)  Sticking "-us" at the ends of words... check.

What saves the sequence, at least for me, is Launchpad's performance.  By doing nothing more than just being himself -- with all the good and bad that that implies -- he inadvertently creates crisis after crisis for the other Ducks, who ultimately become so spooked by his presence that they literally run away from him when it seems like he's about to step in it once again.

In classic LP style, Launchpad uses his own improvisational skills to best the most persistent of his tormentors, an overbearing, Bluto-like "greatest gladiator" named Detractus Finalus.  Say what you will about Langhans' performance here, but he definitely knows how to write Launchpad.

HD&L once again do their part as well, neutralizing the lions slated to gobble up Scrooge and Launchpad in a manner strikingly similar to (that's a politically correct way of saying "exactly the same as") a gambit they used in a well-aged Barks adventure.

At least Scrooge and Launchpad weren't summarily thrown out of Rome for being such "disgraces to the Empire" that even tigers wouldn't touch them.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, Magica has arrived, using her crystal ball as a sort of temporal GPS (there's that "rubber-sheet flexibility" of her powers turning up again...) and subsequently disguising herself as the Emperor's bitchy wife in a failed attempt to trick Scrooge out of Old #1.  Thereafter, she resorts to good, old-fashioned zappery.  The gang nonetheless manage to take off in the Time Coupe, leaving Magica behind, and fly back to Duckburg, where, in Scrooge's absence, the ever-persistent Beagles have broken into the Money Bin with the aid of what Bouncer calls "this super acid we swiped from the lab."  You know, you know... THAT lab.  The Time Coupe arrives just in time to decisively squash their hopes...

Bozhe Moy!  Baggy is Russian?!

... and, if you can believe it, that's a story.  No return of Magica, no explanation as to what became of Gyro.  That's it.

So, was Bob Langhans just the Duck comics writers' equivalent of a one-hit wonder?  Hard to say.  He wrote a number of other DUCKTALES stories, some of which were published in the UK, but most of the images I've been able to find of them on Inducks are from Dutch publications.  Most of the other stories appear to be of the fairly modest variety, ranging from 6 to 16 pages.  For sure, "A Dime in Time" and "The Gold Odyssey" were, by a considerable margin, the most ambitious DT tales he ever wrote.  If one of these epics had to be second-rate, I'm glad it wasn't "The BIG One."

.

.

.

Next, I'm going to turn my attention to DuckTales fanfic that can be found on the Internet.  As I mentioned before, while there isn't all that much of it to be found, I have found a couple of works worth commenting upon.  Any illustrations will have to be of the generic variety, of course, but that's what comes of working with text stories.

My first review along these lines will be of a rather modest, lighter-veined story, but more ambitious efforts are on the docket.  Here's one preview that may intrigue you:

Imagine that someone took Don Rosa's famous image of Scrooge's 1967 gravesite seriously... very seriously... and used it as a jumping-off point for the Nephews' future lives.  In the world of DuckTales.  And Darkwing Duck.  And TaleSpin (circa 1970 or so).  And even Goof Troop.  Now imagine that the story rated somewhere between PG-13 and a "hard" R.

Yes, really.

Comics Review: MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDS FOREVER #8 (August 2014, IDW Publishing)

The next couple of issues of FRIENDS FOREVER are going to be... interesting?  Actually, a better word would probably be "challenging."  I have pre-publication details on all of the upcoming issues through #11, and all of them involve "friendship team-ups" that have already been explored in some detail in various episodes of the animated series.  I have long made it clear that this is NOT where I think this title should be going.  Nonetheless, I will have no real issue with the rehashes, as long as the creators can take different, and equally imaginative, routes in exploring the relationships between the characters involved.  Previous issues that featured hitherto-unexplored teamups could be examined in isolation on their own merits.  Now, the creators have burdened themselves with the double duty of doing something novel while still paying appropriate tribute to what has gone before.  How successful will they be?

In FF #8, Katie Cook and Andy Price set themselves quite a challenge by teaming up Rarity and Applejack in a cross-country travel epic, "Reins, Trains, and Carts with Wheels."  These two members of the "Mane 6," with their diametrically opposed sensibilities and aesthetic tastes, have previously butted heads in the animated eps "Look Before You Sleep" and "Simple Ways," with intermittently funny results.  Heck, they have even gone so far as to change personalities in the course of their quasi-duels.  So what more about their relationship can be explored without seeming to plow old ground (a metaphor that Applejack would appreciate) or stitch up an existing dress (ditto for Rarity)? Well, C&P actually do come up with something... namely, the mares' approaches to their respective businesses.  Applejack, traveling cross-country to strike an apple-peddling deal with some "Coltifornia" relatives, tries to keep things honest, simple, and straightforward.  By contrast, the "Type A" Rarity -- who, it must be remembered, runs the Canterlot Boutique as a one-pony show -- is all about employing up-to-date (at least in the Equestrian sense) business methods (including "social media" -- Celestia only knows what that entails in an Equestrian setting).  The duo don't exactly come to a "middle ground of agreement" as to how best to run a business -- they are simply too different for that -- but they do wind up apologizing for insulting one another on the matter.  Again, that is something we have seen before.

While the "business conflict" here is interesting and realistic in light of what we know about Rarity and Applejack, the accompanying humor is... problematic.  In their attempt to bring out the differences between the characters and exploit them in a funny fashion, I believe that C&P indulged in some unnecessary oversimplification... not quite as bad as "Flanderization," but of the same general variety.  The more extreme example of this is Rarity being cast as a guidebook-toting "overenthusiastic tourist" who goes into raptures over roadside features like "the largest ball of yarn in Equestria."   I can sort of see what C&P were attempting to latch onto here.  Because of her intense interest in aesthetics, Rarity often does become mercurial and overenthusiastic about minutiae.  The question is, which minutiae are we talking about?  Rarity being excited about visiting star-filled "Applewood" is one thing; Rarity acting like Goofy on the road trip in A Goofy Movie is quite another.  AJ slams this version of Rarity as "an unprofessional fluffhead," and I have to agree.  (Interestingly, I've read a MLP:FIM fanfic about a similarly "long and strange trip" through the Equestrian interior in which Rarity played the [comparatively] "straight," impatient role and Pinkie Pie played the giddy traveler.  That dual characterization makes much more sense, I think.)

Applejack herself doesn't get off scot-free, largely because her typical simplicity of approach is itself simplified to something approaching the point of absurdity.  Her "business plan" turns out to read: "Sell apples."  Come on, Katie and Andy, she's not THAT stupid.  Sweet Apple Acres is a thriving business and has been for some time.  You really don't think that AJ would have picked up a more sophisticated understanding of operating a family farm by now?  Even if one posits that Granny Smith and Big Macintosh play a more active role in farm affairs than it might seem at first glance, Applejack should certainly be one of the biggest, if not THE biggest, movers and shakers when it comes to running the place.

FF #8 is still a lot of fun to read, as one might readily expect when Cook and Price are involved.  We get C&P's usual complement of background "in-jokes" and movie references and some imaginative visuals (e.g., the last panel being made up of a series of touristy snapshots, each of which summarizes a small portion of what has gone before in the narrative).  We also get a clever foreshadowing of an upcoming adventure in the MLP regular series when a group of literal "Cattle Rustlers" disrupt the mares' stagecoach trip.  I can't rank this as one of the dynamic duo's best efforts, however, because of the previously-mentioned character issues.  I hope that the upcoming re-do's will have slightly better luck.

DUCKTALES RETROSPECTIVE: Episode 96, "A DuckTales Valentine"... and a moment with "DuckTales: The Movie"

Among the standalone half-hour episodes of DuckTales, "A DuckTales Valentine"... well, stands alone, only more so.  Originally broadcast on February 11, 1990 as the first part of an hour-long Magical World of Disney Valentine's Day special...

... it subsequently turned up in syndication, albeit with a badly butchered title card that treats "DuckTales" as, I guess, a character, complete with a first and a last name.  Shades of the infamous "DuckTales in..." byline that we saw in Marvel-Disney's DISNEY AFTERNOON title, among other places.

The original version of the title card, which only appeared during the original NBC broadcast, makes "DT Valentine" the only DuckTales episode with THREE distinct titles.  This is also the only time that any DT ep got the picture-card title treatment that later became S.O.P. during Quack Pack.  (Do all of the auguries so far sound a bit... ominous?  I'd say so.)

(Hey, it would've probably been better than the show we DID get.)

Depending upon whether you regard "Back to the Klondike" as a Valentine's Day episode -- I'm inclined to say not, given that (1) the Valentine's theme is merely a sidebar to the actual plot; (2) WDTVA itself seemed to have no problem slating "Klondike"'s original broadcast for late October 1987 -- "Valentine" broke WDTVA's duck (sorry) as the first full-fledged "holiday" episode that the studio had ever produced.  The fact that DuckTales had eschewed "holiday" productions up until this point could actually be considered a positive of sorts.  The individuals who toiled on the series apparently had sufficient confidence in the show's entertainment level that they did not feel the need for such "expected" seasonal offerings.  The increased use of "holiday" eps in later WDTVA series admittedly resulted in at least one universally acknowledged masterpiece, but it also figuratively shortened the distance between WDTVA productions and productions from other, frequently less inspired studios.

Doing a Valentine's special obliges the creator to answer a very tricky question: What is the appropriate tone to take?  From my perspective, "DT Valentine" was fighting something of an uphill battle from the start.  The prime Valentine's special of my youth, "Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown" (1975), mixed a good deal of wistfulness in with the expected sentiment -- in fact, most of the attention went to the subversion of romantic assumptions.  Charlie Brown's well-established frustration at never getting a Valentine was an obvious choice for a subplot, but Charles Schulz' script added to the expected angst:  Linus bought an elaborate box of candy that he intended to give to his beloved teacher Miss Othmar, only to erupt in fury after he watched the oblivious Miss O. drive away with her boyfriend.

Then, too, "Back to the Klondike" had already partially compromised any additional attempt that DuckTales might take towards the Valentine's holiday, slathering several thick layers of "pink-tinted cuteness" onto an existing narrative that was famed for its astringence.  (Don Rosa's slightly different take on the events of "Klondike" didn't exist at the time, but suffice it to say that the contrast would have seemed even sharper if it had existed.) I had come to terms with the series' approach to "Klondike" by the time "DT Valentine" aired, but I hadn't forgotten the (still somewhat disturbing) precedent.

Given the relatively modest hopes that I had for "DT Valentine" going in, I actually found the end product to be unexpectedly enjoyable.  Granted, there are more than enough flaws to pick at here, not the least of which is the ultra-syrupy "pulsating heart" fadeout scene.  GeoX is right; this really does make the heart-shaped smoke plumes of "Klondike" seem subtle and underplayed.  The fact that the sentiment being expressed (Scrooge's devotion to his family) is one that has long since been established as a basic characteristic of the DuckTales version of Scrooge makes the lovey-dovey overkill feel akin to being beaten over the head with a greeting card (as an unsentimental someone once described a viewing of The Sound of Music [1965]).

  Even a majority of the Ducks seem a bit uncomfortable with this approach.

Other issues of tone will affect one's opinion of the narrative, especially Webby's "saccharine burbling" (GeoX) and/or "melodramatic crap" (Greg).  Honestly, most of this didn't bother me.  Webby was far more hapless and unendurable in "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Webby," in which even Bubba Duck outshone her.  Her gift of a Valentine's cupcake to the love-struck Scrooge (who subsequently palms the pastry off on an indifferent Aphroducky) is played in a somewhat cutesy manner, including the silly use of heart-shaped black pupils, which tends to obscure the salient fact that Webby, unlike HD&L, is willing to continue trying to get through to Scrooge, a clear indication of just how much she really cares for him.  We also shouldn't forget that Webby (1) is the first kid to use one of Cupid's arrows as a weapon, when she jabs Aphroducky the first time; (2) is accepted as an equal by HD&L when the kids stow away on Scrooge and Launchpad's plane; (3) plays her part in bamboozling Aphroducky into thinking that she's allergic to Scrooge's money.  Some "burbling" there might be, but Webby is most definitely "a full part of the team" here -- a nice callback to some of her stronger past roles.

Scrooge's attitude here, though less noticeable than Webby's, is also something that a viewer must fight through.  Until the love spell is broken and Scrooge rescues the kids from Vulcan's pit, this must rank as Scrooge's most unlikable performance since... I don't know, "Ducks on the Lam," maybe?  Or "Aqua Ducks" and "Working for Scales"?  Whichever precedent you choose, man, is he having the proverbial "terrible day" here.  We get a sense of what's coming right at the start when the kids point out that Scrooge has been incommunicado for weeks while he's been researching the location of the Lost Temple of Aphroducky.  Scrooge subsequently blows off V-Day as "sentimental drivel," forbids HD&L and Webby from coming with him to find the Temple (as if that's ever stopped them before...), hurls a few "Scrooge's Pet"-vintage insults at Launchpad, erupts in disgust when he discovers the nature of "the greatest treasure of all" (compare his restrained reaction to the truth about the treasure of the ancient Thinkas in "Bubba's Big Brainstorm"), and so on, and so unpleasant... whereupon he gets poked with an arrow and turns into a lovesick fool.  Needless to say, Scrooge's "original sin" -- namely, his indifference towards the kids -- is atoned for in full when he realizes that HD&L and Webby are in physical peril and his protective instincts towards "[his] own kin" come to the fore.  But a whole lot of green-tinted bile and candy-flavored goo has to flow under the bridge before we can get to that point.

So what "saves" this ep for me?  Well, first off, it does have a proper plot with an appropriate payoff, in the manner of a more or less typical half-hour episode from the first season.  There's nothing here remotely comparable to, say, Act Three of "Yuppy Ducks," or the final chapter of "Time is Money," in terms of insulting the intelligence.  Vulcan's attack on McDuck Mansion, and the addled Scrooge's self-correction, are both logical consequences of what has gone before.  The only real loose thread that I can discern is a lack of an explanation for exactly how Aphroducky and Vulcan's "magic monitor" works.  OK, the thing "dings" (oddly enough, in the manner of a microwave or a toaster oven) when someone, or something, is in Aphroducky's sunken Temple.  So wouldn't it be "dinging" all the time, given that Aphroducky inadvertently reveals that passing sea creatures (such as the shark) are able to activate it?  I can see that aural irritant contributing to Aphro and Vulcan's... er, domestic issues.  Also, when Vulcan turns on the device, why does it suddenly act like a television set rather than a security camera, and why does it immediately bring up a picture of Aphroducky?  This wouldn't be so important, except that the "magic TV" is the means whereby Vulcan learns that his betrothed is "two-timing" him and subsequently searches for Scrooge with intent to clobber.  The fact that both Aphro and Vulcan know exactly where to find Scrooge (Vulcan needs some help, but he knows enough to go to Duckburg, at the very least) can be more easily be brushed off because, well, these characters ARE gods, after all.  You wouldn't expect Princess Celestia to need a GPS, either.  But the use of the "magic monitor" as a convenient "whatsit" that gives characters exactly the information they need to keep the plot moving has always struck me as too convenient by half.

"AH!  The spanakopita's done?!"

Now, what ABOUT Aphroducky and Vulcan?  Neither GeoX nor Greg seems to have thought much of their portrayals here.  I'm not talking about relatively petty stuff, like the mixture of Greek and Roman names; I'm referring to the fact that Aphro and Vulky are channeling The Bickersons throughout.  Well, that's not strictly true.  The trick to understanding their characterizations here is to realize that Kenneth Mars and Linda Gary are pretty obviously basing their performances on Ralph and Alice Kramden from The Honeymooners.  This is at once a clever reference that adds to one's enjoyment of the episode (much as the knowledge that Lawrence Loudmouth was based on Morton Downey Jr. augments one's appreciation of "The Masked Mallard") and an intriguing interpretation of the well-known fact that the deities of classical mythology were essentially "fallible men and women" who just happened to possess godlike powers.  How better to illustrate the somewhat tempestuous interpersonal relations of the Greek and Roman "super-power elite" than to interpret them in terms of one of the most famous "contentious couples" from our own popular culture?  

The media-inflected portrayal of Aphroducky and Vulcan reflects the manner in which "DT Valentine" is basically a first-season episode in terms of plot setup -- search for a mythical lost treasure, discovery that the treasure comes with a few barbs (literally) attached, interactions with figures from myth and legend, plenty of action -- but a second-season episode in terms of humor style.  A similar mixture of seasons can be seen in the depiction of Launchpad.  Before he is "poked" and falls in love with the shark, LP swings between "standard" bouts of ineptitude and moments of legitimate derring-do, touched with a bit of genuine heroism (e.g., when he prepares to face the shark and tells Scrooge to save himself and the kids).  This portrayal comes to a halt when the tetched LP gives the shark that yard-long smackeroo.  Then, a touch of seriousness returns when LP is forced to choose between flying and living with the shark.  Finally, LP makes with the wisecracks, ill-advised or otherwise, during Vulcan's attack.  Which version of Launchpad do you prefer?  Take your pick, they're all here.

The influence of the first season on this episode can most easily be seen during the action scenes, which are surprisingly intense for a supposedly "saccharine" effort.  Launchpad riding the shark, Aphroducky attacking Scrooge in the Money Bin, and Vulcan going after Scrooge all deliver the goods.  Even HD&L and Webby get to join in the physical fun when they "make their points" with various characters' posteriors.  There are plenty of far less sentimental DT episodes with far feebler action content.

The somewhat troublesome distinction that is made here between "stimulated infatuation" and "true love" can be finessed by interpreting the latter phrase as "true passion."  Launchpad's passion is obviously flying (as he himself says in the foreshadowing monologue during the flight to the treasure site), and, as for Scrooge... well, even Barks saw fit to admit in his stories that, despite Scrooge's emotional and psychological attachment to his money, there are certain lines that the miser will not cross: his decision to let Glittering Goldie have the rest of the gold on the White Agony Creek claim in "Back to the Klondike" is but the most famous of these.  Add to this DT's previously-established axiom that Scrooge has (literally) learned to care deeply about his family -- progressing from the solitude of "Don't Give Up the Ship" to the determination that the kids need to be taken care of, no matter what, in "Scrooge's Last Adventure," and it's easy to accept Scrooge's "true passion" being the welfare of those in his charge.  We could definitely have done without the "heart-filled" jackhammering, but I can see what Len Uhley was aiming for here.

Thanks to a pretty robust plot, some solidly comic grace notes, and a few moments of legitimately heartwarming sentiment, "A DuckTales Valentine" is nowhere near the utter disaster it could have been -- provided that you can stomach the sweetness, of course.

.

.

.

"DuckBlurbs"

(GeoX) [Scrooge] refuses to allow HDL and Webby to go along, and there's an unintentionally hilarious bit where they're like, oh man, what'll we do? And then the camera focuses on an empty crate and they're all, maybe we CAN go, after all! Dudes, you stow away in boxes three or four times a week. Don't act like the idea is such a revelation.

Scrooge has even less of an excuse to let the kids get away with this than he normally would have, given that the plane's cargo hold is virtually deserted, apart from the box in which HD&L and Webby are hiding. 

(GeoX) And [the Ducks] find statues of Aphroducky, as well as Vulcan and Cupid, and two things: A) if you're going to give one of them a lame duck-oriented name, you have to do it for all of them. None of this lame inconsistency; and B) Aphrodite is Greek; Vulcan and Cupid are Roman. I don't think it's asking too much to expect the show to get this fairly basic bit right--at least, if you don't want people to resort to the dam[n]ing-with-faint-praise "who cares? It's just a dumb kids' show." Of course, you probably want to keep "Cupid," since "Eros" doesn't quite have the same cultural resonance, and besides, hypersensitive parent groups might get enraged. So the best choice would've been to just go with "Venus;" we'd lose the awesome duck-name, of course, but I can honestly say that that is a sacrifice I am prepared to make.

Again, I would have gotten more bent out of shape about fidelity to classic myth and all that were it not for the fact that the god-characters are basically placeholders for a media parody.  I'm willing to cut the episode some slack on that account, as opposed to dismissing the inconsistency as "something you expect in a kids' show."  "Home Sweet Homer" mixed real and "Ducked-up" character and place names, too, and I didn't find that bothersome in the least.  I will, however, note that the statue of Aphroducky literally changes in appearance from one scene to the next.  Keep an eye on her hair.

(GeoX) "This so-called holiday is just a ploy by the card and candy companies to make a buck!" We're clearly meant to disagree with this statement, but…well, don't get me wrong, I find lazy anti-Valentine's-Day cynicism super-boring, but the fact remains, it's sorta kinda completely true.

This does seem considerably harsher than Scrooge's comment about Valentine's Day in "Back to the Klondike": "A waste of time and postage stamps."  That rings a bit truer to Scrooge's personality, in the sense that saving money on postage is the first tangible thing that comes to his mind.  Scrooge's cynicism about the holiday may simply be Len Uhley expressing his own jaundiced views to the audience, just as he displayed cynicism about the media and the Duckburg power structure in "The Masked Mallard."

(Greg) Scrooge also shows a map with a big red X on the lower left which Louie uses the magnifying glass on it and sounds generally not interested. 

We've come a long way from "Treasure of the Golden Suns," haven't we?  An elaborate search for multiple pieces of a map there, a couldn't-misinterpret-it-if-you-tried "big red X" here.  Guess Uhley was simply anxious to get to the good stuff.  At least this opening wasn't quite as tossed off as the one in "Ducky Mountain High."

(Greg) So we scene change to underwater as Launchpad is manning an orange hover sub which has no dome and thus the babyfaces have to wear their underwater suits. And the kids are with them of course...

Funny (as always) how Scrooge flipped from saying "I told you not to come!" to allowing HD&L and Webby to join in the potentially dangerous search, as opposed to simply leaving them on board the plane, which he would have had every right to do.

Another potential thesis for the enterprising Donaldist: "Effects of Exterior Duck Bows on the Flow of a Surrounding Viscous Fluid Medium." (Subtitle: "Including an Analysis of the Webby Effect vs. the Daisy Effect.")

(Greg) Louie has the flashlight on full blast and notices a stone box half buried in sand with Greek writing on it. Launchpad floats down and he has no idea how to translate Greek; to no one's surprise. Scrooge comes down and he somehow is able to translate the writing and it's the greatest treasure as he, Louie and LP pry open the box and there is nothing inside of it; other than a Greek word written on the bottom which loosely translates into love.

And which Launchpad, for some inexplicable reason, is able to translate immediately after having admitted that he doesn't know how to read Greek.  But Uhley simply had to have that "It's Greek to me" line in there somewhere.  (Heck, Launchpad openly admits as much.)

(Greg) Dewey however; saves this mission by being under the Cupid statue and pointing to the PLOT DEVICE OF THE DAY - the golden arrows of love. Wait; so Webby noticed the statue and didn't realize that the treasure Scrooge wanted was already in the quiver about thirty seconds ago? Damn; this episode is frustrating me.

The nature of the arrows is much clearer in the shot with Dewey than in the shots with Webby -- in the former, the gold is much brighter, and the quiver is clearly visible.  Part of this can perhaps be explained by the fact that the two shots below are taken from different sides of the Cupid statue.  Webby is blocking us from view of the quiver, and the light must be shining from in front of Dewey for the gold to gleam so brightly.

(Greg) Aphro (voiced by the late Linda Gary) doesn't want to bother with the grovelling and wants the arrows right now. Scrooge no sells in typical fashion as we are redoing Raiders Of The Lost Harp.

Very much so... only this version is slightly more comedic, in the second-season tradition.  Yes, even though "Raiders" featured the pro-wrestler version of Magica.

(Greg) Yes; I think we know where this is going [to the climactic attack by Vulcan] and while it is really the right booking decision; the buildup to it is so awful that it's difficult to have any empathy towards the kids. This is why Kit and Molly were so special because they could pull this one off a lot better since they know heartache a lot more than these kids do.

Greg definitely seems to be of the opinion that HD&L and Webby needed to be punished in some manner for their actions here.  I don't get that at all.  The only true mistakes that the kids made were (1) to accidentally stab Scrooge with the arrow when they were trying to trap Aphroducky (file under the heading of an "honest mistake"); (2) incorrectly thinking that Scrooge's "true love" is his money, rather than his family (somewhat questionable, given that they have gone through the same series-long chain of events that Scrooge has, but also understandable, given that the DuckTales Scrooge often gives the impression that money is that important to him).

.

.

.

So... um... DuckTales: The Movie. 

Hey, what did you expect?  Try finding it anywhere.  Why Disney chose to release the DVD version through the Disney Movie Club, I'll NEVER know.

If the phrase "It is what it is" hadn't been fated to be inflicted upon the world 20 years in the future, then it would surely have been created for the purposes of describing DT:TM.  It's a pretty straightforward big-screen adaptation of the series, drawing heavily upon the precedents set in the TV series' first season, with some immensely memorable scenes (the gang's discovery of the Treasure of Collie Baba, the kids getting caught in the Money Bin stairwell as Merlock transforms the Bin into "Casa de Kookoo") and a lot of interstitial material that is more or less cutesy.  I happen to like it quite a bit, even while I admit that it doesn't truly break any new ground in the manner of, let us say, A Goofy Movie.  (I will leave open the question of what might have happened had WDTVA been permitted to make a large number of additional half-hour episodes in place of the movie.)  From the perspective of DuckTales the series, of course, the effects of DT:TM can be narrowed down to...

But we'll make that Bedouin and lie in it next time, as we begin to tackle the handful of remaining new episodes from the Disney Afternoon era.

Next: Episode 97, "Attack of the Metal Mites."