Molitov cocktail if you please.
((OOC: This is my first post so I hope I don't fail.))
NegaDuck had been drifting and drifting throughout the Negative Vortex for who knew how long. Ever since his damned double Darkwing had pulled the Cosmic Plug, NegaDuck had been trapped in nowhere.
He had been passing the time imagining all the terrible things he would do to Darkwing if he ever saw him again. That, and singing cartoon theme songs, but replacing the words with swears.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw it: a door. A door? A DOOR!
NegaDuck breast stroked through nothingness in an effort to get to the floating door. It felt like it took forever but NegaDuck was nothing if not very, very determined. Straining every muscle in his legs and upper body he finally managed to grasp the doorknob with a hand, then two. He pulled himself to the door and placed his feet on it. He turned the knob.
And fell through the door.
In the bar, the broom-closet suddenly burst open, vomiting brooms, buckets and mops. Out the short duck tumbled, head over heels. As he rolled into the main room he was followed by a cacophony of humorous sound effects like symbols and bike horns.
As he came to a stop, he pulled a bucket off his head and straightened his bill. Digging his hat from the bucket he replaced it on his head. His beady eyes glowered as he took in his surroundings.
"Where the hell am I?"
NegaDuck had been drifting and drifting throughout the Negative Vortex for who knew how long. Ever since his damned double Darkwing had pulled the Cosmic Plug, NegaDuck had been trapped in nowhere.
He had been passing the time imagining all the terrible things he would do to Darkwing if he ever saw him again. That, and singing cartoon theme songs, but replacing the words with swears.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw it: a door. A door? A DOOR!
NegaDuck breast stroked through nothingness in an effort to get to the floating door. It felt like it took forever but NegaDuck was nothing if not very, very determined. Straining every muscle in his legs and upper body he finally managed to grasp the doorknob with a hand, then two. He pulled himself to the door and placed his feet on it. He turned the knob.
And fell through the door.
In the bar, the broom-closet suddenly burst open, vomiting brooms, buckets and mops. Out the short duck tumbled, head over heels. As he rolled into the main room he was followed by a cacophony of humorous sound effects like symbols and bike horns.
As he came to a stop, he pulled a bucket off his head and straightened his bill. Digging his hat from the bucket he replaced it on his head. His beady eyes glowered as he took in his surroundings.
"Where the hell am I?"