Work Text:
"Twisted Every Way: Behind the Mask"
by Roaming Tigress
Fandom: Darkwing Duck
Summery: The unoffical biography of Agent Steelbeak.
Twisted Every Way: Behind the Mask
by Roaming Tigress
*~*
An Introductory
*~*
In the city of St. Canard, a motly crew of villains from all walks of life keep the egotystical crimefighting masked mallard, Darkwing Duck, on his toes. There's the Fearsome Five -- Bushroot, The Liquidator, Quackerjack, Megavolt, Negaduck. Not to mention a few minor villains and villainesses that call St. Canard their domain. Last but not least is F.O.W.L -- Fiendish Organization for World Larceny.
This biography is about one of these villains. A Cheif F.O.W.L agent to be exact. Until now, he kept his secrets hidden behind a mask of arrogance, suavity -- and steel.
His name -- Valentino Volatili. Agent Steelbeak.
~*~
Disclaimer: The characters of Roberto and Emillia Volatilli are (c) Roaming Tigress. All other mentioned characters are (c) Walt Disney Corportation.
In the Beginning
*~*
For a moment or two, I would like to talk about de people responsible fer bringing me into dis woild.
I was da youngest of t'ree children born into de Volatili family. For de foist few years of my life, I lived in de countryside of Tuscany, were my father, Roberto, grew wheat for a living. He was a tall, robust rooster, suave in nature and very proud. We were never even close to rich, but whatever Dad got from da wheat was enough to put food on de table.
In many ways, Roberto was like me. Yet he despised me from de day dat I was born. In de next chapter, I will tell youse why.
I don't like talkin' about it, but I must.
My mother, Emillia, was a stout, cream-coloured hen who owned a small cafe called Cafe Emillia in Napoli. She was very mellow, and it was a very rare moment in which she lost 'er temper. Emillia had many interests -- dancing, sightseeing, art, culture, jest ta name a few. As far as looks go, she wasn't much to look at, but it was 'er pers-onality dat was da best part of 'er.
In de summer of 1955, Roberto came to Napoli to visit an old friend of 'is from college. One afternoon, he stopped into Cafe Emillia for a quick cup of coffee before settling into the hotel down de street.
***
"Emillia, eh? Niiice name..." Roberto cooed, taking a sip of his coffee and reading the newspaper. "So tell me, Emillia, what are some of your interests?"
"Dancing, theater, art, culture..." Emillia smiled as she sat down on the chair across from the handsome, young rooster. "I went to Niagara Falls when I was very young, and to the Grand Canyon and London, England."
"Interesting," he smirked, folding the paper up and casually tossing it down on the table. "You and I have much in common."
"Really?" Emillia was ecstatic. "Do you like theater?"
"Love it," Roberto answered, looking at his watch. 12: 30 pm. Realizing the time, he got up and pushed the chair in. "As much as I hate to say it, I must go now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Emillia."
He took ahold of her hand and
"You, too," she nodded. "Thanks for stopping in!"
Just before heading out the door, Roberto looked over his shoulder and winked at Emillia. "I'll make sure dat I stop in again."
"Until we meet again," she whispered to herself, watching him saunter down the road him . "Roberto..."
***
It would be another t'ree years until they would see one another again. By chance, Roberto met up with Emillia at a park. After much consideration, he proposed to her. Da marriage took place on July 16th, 1958.
Reluctantly, my mother sold de cafe and moved in wit' Roberto. She wanted to raise a family in da country were de air was fresh and dere'd be plenty of room for 'er kids ta run around. Emillia had spent much of her life in Napoli, and a change of scenery was good for 'er.
In the summer of '59, Andreas and Antonio were born. Poifect in ev'ry way, dey were da pride and joy of my parents.
I wasn't.
*~*
Creation of A Creature
*~*
My story unfolds on de twentieth of March, 1962. To da folks who are too lazy to do deir math, dat was nearly fourty-one years ago.
It was born on a dreary, rainy afternoon, shortly after a hailstorm. At dat moment, da weat'er suited da mood my family was in. Youse see, I was no one's beautiful baby. Bein' da sexy rooster dat I am now, dat's diff-i-cult to believe, right?
I born four weeks prematurely. Scrawny and sickly, I was far from de image of a cute, fluffy farmyard chick. I was further deformed wit' an underbite woise den a bulldog's and a cleft lip dat nearly split my upper beak in two. Disgusted by my appearance, my father spat on my face de moment my mother showed me to him. He t'reatened to walk out on de family if I wasn't disposed of as soon as possible.
T'anks, dad. You really made my life complete. Of course dere's not'ing WRONG wit' t'inking yer youngest son is better dead den alive!
My mother considered ta put me up for adoption, but knew deep downside dat no one would want me. At 'er wits end, she made an attempt to drown me in a bucket of ice cold water. It was only 'er cowardice -- not concern fer my welfare -- dat stopped 'er from doin' so. In a way, I wish she did put me out of my mis'ry.
Wit' jus' bein' born, I tore apart da family. Jes' a few days before my foist birthday, dad left da family fer good. I never got to really know da bastard, and as a matter of fact, I'm glad I didn't. For 'is safety, it's a damn good t'ing dat I don't know were 'e is. For otherwise, I would track 'em down and make 'im suffer da way 'e made me suffer.
*~*
Growing Up
*~*
My foist Christmas and my foist birthday were jus' uneventful days fer me. Youse see, while my brothers got gifts, I didn't even get a single piece of candy. Wit' dad gone fer good, times were tough. My mother told me she jus' "ran out of money". I know what 'er real meaning was, 'owever. Just like dat bastard dat spat on my face, she just didn't want me. I was in da way, I suppose. Jus' another mouth to food.
I was a nothing. Simple as dat. A piece of dirt ta be swept up under de carpet and forgotten. Even my brot'ers 'ated me, treating me as if I was some sorta contagious disease.
Emillia was an artistic person. She began to make and sell pottery and paintings. Eventually, she scraped up enough money to make a decent living and got 'er family outta poverty. Yet, like a piece of garbage, I was still somet'ing to be casted aside. Money 'ad not'ing to do wit' it. Even if I was raised up in a royal family, dey'd still treat me like shit.
Why was I born? I'm still waitin' fer an answer. I suppose 'Igh Command was t'ankful for Emillia's accidental pregnancy.
Even at da tender age of eight months, I already began to develop my volatile temper. I was extremely temperamental, crying and screaming all da time. Mom never really knew 'ow ta deal wit' me. She'd hit me an' slam da bedroom door shut just so she wouldn't 'ear my pitiful cries. It only made da matters woise.
It's amazing dat I'm not anti-social. Youse see, whenever someone came over, she would hide me away, so dat no one would see my deformities. She dreaded bringing me out into public, fearing ot'er people's reactions and my tendency to 'ave temper tantrums.
Dis wretched creature not only ruined da life of my father, but my mother's as well. After suffering a nervous breakdown, Emillia went from a peaceful, level-'eaded person to a maniac, lashing out at da smallest provocation. She would often take 'er anger out on me, blaming all da problems dat
Antonio and Andreas grew accustomed to my appearance. More often den not, dey were da ones dat defended me in da school yard when I was picked on. Dey even tried ta reason wit' mom when she got mad at me. Despite da fact dat dey defended me whenever dey could, I was insanely jealous of dem jus' fer bein' so damn lucky and "normal". I shouldda been more appreciative of dem, but I wasn't.
In da autumn of 1964, due to a move to da United States of America, my live would go from bad to woise.
*~*
Turning Over a New Leaf
*~*
Mom told my brothers and I dat we moved ta Coney Island ta turn over a new leaf. I wish she told us da truth. In reality, it was all about Emillia. She only moved over dere for 'erself.
She found 'er "dream job" at an art studio dat would eventually turn us from rags to riches. Fer t'ree months we lived on the upper floor wit' da studio's owners, a pair of middle-aged wolves named DeSoto and Darlene Rameria. Dey were da few people dat were kind to me and showed no fear when dey saw my face.
I'll never forget dose two. To me, dey were my guardian angels. Dey came to visit me from time, and gave me gifts on Christmas and on my boithday which my mother never did.
When mom got enough money, we moved into a two-story 'ome (home) dat was a few blocks from da now closed down Steeplechase Park. It was a decent enough place wit' a bay window and a fireplace. I remember dere was big willow tree in da front yard dat I used ta climb on from time to time. In the backyard, dere was a frog-filled pond dat my brothers and I would play in. Dose were da very few memories of my childhood dat I actually liked.
Dat little 'ouse on Coney seemed like a mansion to us in comparison to da little farm'ouse back in Tuscany. We didn't miss dat mouse-ridden, thatched, leaky roof or da ticks dat would bite us in bed. Gone, 'owever, was da comfortin' sound of da crickets dat used ta lull me to sleep.
Three weeks before Christmas of 1964, I was stricken wit' a terrible case of pneumonia. I was only two at da time. I should 'ave succumbed to da illness like my mother wanted, but I didn't. Just as it looked like I was going to die, she rushed me to da 'ospital (hospital). She only did dat so I wouldn't be taken away by da Children's Aid Society. Once again, she was only concerned fer 'erself, not fer my mis'rable existence.
It took four months for me to fully recover. A few years ago, I learned dat she left my bedroom window open so dat I'd get a draft. Now, what kind of mother would do dat to 'er child? Only a callous, bitter and selfish one would. Was she evil? To me, she was. For my brothers? To put it simply, Emillia was da best mother a kid could ever wish for. She got dem ev'ry t'ing under de sun and gave 'em as much love as she possibly could.
In de summer of 1965, it was decided dat I was to earn my keep.
*~*
Living Freak Show
*~*
Sometime in June of 1964, a burly Russian bear came ta the door, asking my mother about my deformity. I cowered in da corner as she took 'im down into my bedroom to take a look at me. He picked me up and examined my face. Not what he wanted, Griz stormed outta da 'ouse, swearing in Russian.
Dat bear was Vlad-i-mir Grizlikoff. Back den, Griz ran a freak show, and didn't even know of S.H.U.S.H's exist-i-ence. Fer a small amount of money, he'd pay people ta come and see livin' oddities. Among ot'er t'ings, dere was a deer wit' five antlers on it's 'ead, and a white leopard. Vlad's father ran a freak show in Russia, and when he passed away, da Griz dat we all know and love, took over da business and moved to America.
While my mother was having a conversation with one of her friends on the telephone and my brot'ers were playin' in da backyard, I become bored. I climbed atop of a counter for something to do. I was two at da time, and I didn't know any better. When ya 'ave a parent dat doesn't pay much attention to ya, ya gotta go and find yer own enter-tain-ment.
Emillia saw me in da corner of 'er eye and seized me by my neck. She pinned me down onto da table and yelled at da top of 'er lungs. When I cried, she grabbed ahold of my legs and smacked me against da wall ta teach me a lesson.
My jaw, four ribs and sternum were broken. Deep down inside, my spirit was shattered; da woist injury of all. Mom rushed me to da 'ospital, sayin' dat I fell outta da bedroom window. It was a lie of course, but she was good at lyin' and it managed ta cover up da abuse. Over time, my ribs and sternum healed, but my lower jaw never really recovered.
Wit' my beak past repair, I would soon become da Ugliest Boid in da USA. Grizlikoff paid my mom fifty dollars a day to exhibit me in da evenings. Finally, I would be of use to dat broad in two diff'rent ways. Fer one, I was outta 'er 'air fer four hours in a day, and she'd get money off of having me gawked at. Apparently, being swung into a wall wasn't good enough revenge. She just 'ad ta push it furt'er.
On de foist day of exhibition, Grizlikoff made it clear dat 'e was in charge. If I cried or struggled ta get away, I would be beaten and cursed at. On one occasion, I was smacked across da back of my 'ead simply fer fidgeting wit' my clothes.
Da freak show was on da location of an abandoned amusement park. People would come all over to see oddities of nature. I was one of dem all right. Often my mom would would come down and laugh at my misfortune. All except da very few were ignorant of my suffering. Even da police couldn't care less what was 'appening to me. Grizlikoff told dem dat 'e was treaten' me right and didn't even raise a hand ta me when dey were around. Coward!
I felt like an animal bein' displayed in a old-style zoo. I was forced ta be gawked at, and wit' no place ta 'ide, I became frantic and agitated. I celebrated my third boithday under dat grungy old tent. On more den one occasion, I was spat at. One brat was cruel enough ta slingshot a rock at me. Da rock hit my beak, putting me in more pain den I was already in.
Whenever I became ill, which was quite often, Grizlikoff would refuse to exhibit me. It was not a show of kindness, and like it was wit' my mom, it was only so dat 'e would get off scot-free fer mistreatin' me. My brother's were too young to do anyt'ing to ease my pain, and mom always told dem dat I was just being bad and need ta be taught a lesson. Yes, dey too were lied to over and over.
I never really did "learn my lesson". At da age of four, I became rebellious. Grizlikoff found dat I was becomin' more and more difficult ta display, for I was becomin' smarter den 'im. I would often loose my temper and I would lash out at 'is attempts to restrain me. It was not uncommon fer me ta try to escape, and more often den not, I succeeded. Once I set the white leopard loose, and for a moment she enjoyed a moment of freedom before being caught by Coney Island Animal Control.
As if t'ings weren't bad enough, dere was anot'er obstacle fer me ta overcome -- da school years.
*~*
Goin' to School
*~*
Emillia couldn't wait 'till the day came when I was to start school. It was a bright September morning when she dropped me off at kindergarten. She was in a rush ta get to woik and didn't even give me a kiss or anyt'ing when she left. I suppose 'er son's foist day at school wasn't important enough.
From de very beginning, de ot'er kids knew I was different. Dey looked at me funny, or dey scared of me. Even de kindergarten teacher didn't know what ta t'ink of me. I really didn't know 'ow ta play, and I was temp'ramental. I'd pick fights and end 'em. All at da age of four.
Da foist day of school proved to be a disaster from de very beginning. Just five minutes after mom dropped me off, I gave two kids nosebleeds after dey teased me about my appearance. One of dem Bud Flood, eventually known as De Liquidator, and da ot'er one was Mole-i-arty. De teacher got mad at me, but I 'ad ta stick up fer myself! I wasn't gonna sit around and let dem harass me.
Mrs. Thornberry, de kindergarten teacher became fed up wit' my behavior and put me in de corner ta cool my nerves. It didn't woik. She contacted my mother about my behavior, and was told dat I was "just 'aving a bad day". De kids came to dat corner ta torment me more, and each and ev'ry time dey did, I'd lash out. I was aggressive, but fer me, it was a nessasary evil.
Ta make da school days woise, I would be continued ta be displayed at de freak show. Grizlikof befriended de owner of Coney Island's famous Freak Show Palace and I was to be displayed dere fer know on. No longer was I going to be displayed under a tent at de grounds of Steeplechase Park. Dere would be more curiosities at de Freak Show Palace, and it was Grizlikoff's 'ope dat I'd get more attention.
Kids recognized me from de shows. Dey taunted me about being in a circus and asked me when I'd run away ta join one. As if giving up, I slowly became withdrawn and depressed. De torment from dem and de abuse from 'ome and in de freak show was taking it's toll on me. Yet, even so, I would lash out unpredictably, like a good-natured cat who's 'ad 'is tail pulled one too many times.
One morning, de school nurse, Mrs. Fletcher, came to look at me. She saw my bruises and took notice of my deformity. Dere was little dat she could do. Emillia lied to 'er when she became concerned fer my well-being. When I became old enough to speak properly, I told 'er what mom did ta me, but Emillia would always tell 'er dat I was all making it up and dat I 'ad dis "wild imagination".
When de teacher wasn't lookin', de ot'er kids would put sand in my eyes or kick me in de shins. I was shoved into de mud a coupla times. Pretty soon I went from bully ta scapegoat.
When I came 'ome wit' doity clothes, I got yelled at and sometimes beaten. Fer dat reason, I was never allowed ta go out on field trips. She'd rather just 'ave me displayed at ta damn freak show. Sure, de kids mistreated me, and de teacher really didn't pay much attention to me, but at least it was somet'ing ta take my mind off of.
Grade one was da best school year. Math became my fav-or-ite subject, wit' writing and reading being my least favorite. I was a fidgety six-year old, and bein' forced ta read some lame, rhyming book about a kid and 'is sailboat wasn't my idea of fun. De scars of abuse still lingered, but fer once, jus' fer a while, I was beginnin' ta enjoy life.
At de freakshow, I'd stirr all kinds of trouble. I made smartass comments about de people gawking at me. Even if it led to being smacked, every so often I'd mouth off to Grizzlikoff. Sometimes if I was bold enough, I'd even steal t'ings from 'im and get away wit' it. Some t'ings never change.
It was in grade one dat I met up wit' Drake Mallard. I'd pick on 'im, and sometimes I'd steal 'is lunch money. I was jealous of 'im bein' better at math den I was. Drake would brag about it constantly and 'e really got on my noives (nerves). Ev'ry so often I'd beat 'im up fer kicks. I really didn't 'ave any friends, so dat's what I did fer entertainment. Anyone weaker den I was was bullied. It got out my aggressions, and even when da school's principal got mad at me, I still felt better.
My rebellious nature got da best of me in da summer of 1970. While Emillia ordered me to clean the dishes after 'aving dinner, I simply crossed my arms and refused. She whacked me across the head with enough force ta knock me out. As I curled up and cringed in terror, Andreas stepped in to defend me. He grabbed ahold of mom's arm and told her if she laid one hand on me again, he would have her reported.
The threat was a good enough excuse for her to cease her physical abuse upon me. De mental abuse, 'owever, was a diff'rent story. It still continues. Even in 'er old age, I still fear and despise 'er for all da pain she 'as caused me. I will never forgive any wrongdoing she 'as ever done to me. NEVER.
Remember 'ow I punched da noses of Bud and Moliarty? Well, dey an' Drake got toge'ter and got dere revenge. While waitin' fer da schoolbus ta take me ta school, dey ganged up on me and ruined my new shirt dat Darlene sent me. Fer da rest of dat day, I sat at da back of da classroom and scowled, giving my "attackers" doity looks.
Dat day, as bad as it was, turned out ta be good. Youse see, I passed a spellin' test dat Drakey failed. Boy oh boy da look on 'is face was priceless when 'e found out!
By da time I was in grade two, my suave personality was beginning to shine t'rough. I didn't lash out as much as I did a few years back, but I did 'ave a temper. It was a slightly easier year fer me. Quite often after school, I'd sneak away from Grizzlikoff and dissappear fer a few hours. A few times da bear would catch me, but more often den not, I was able to get away.
I commited my foist crime at de age of eight. While out running away from Grizlikoff, I came upon a lady at a park who was feeding pigeons. She left 'er purse underneath a bench, practically just waiting fer someone to raid it. Dat someone was me. I snuck in, snatched two hundred dollars, and snuck home.
I never did get caught fer doin' dat, even if it did break news. I didn't even spend da money 'till I was in 'Igh School (which I'll talk about in de next chapter). I kept de money under my bed, just in case Emillia would find it. I boasted about it a bit at school, and from dat day on, it was apparent dat I 'ad a big ego.
At de age of nine, I was relieved of one burden -- Drake Mallard. Shortcake, as I 'affectionately' named 'im at de time, moved ta St. Canard. Drake wasn't de only one dat moved to St. Canard. After bein' offered a job wit' SHUSH, Grizzlikoff also packed his bags and left fer good. Anot'er burden gone.
Yet dere was a dark side in dat year. Namely, de death of my brother, Antonio. While climbin' de tree in front of de 'ouse, he lost 'is footing and broke 'is neck when he hit de ground. Antonio died in front of my eyes.
I was never de same since dat incident.
*~*
Laughing in The Face of The Law
*~*
De remainder of my years at elementary school came and gone like de autumn leaves, but de pain from dose years would remain.
De death of Antonio left a gaping wound in my life dat I would never recover from. Not surprisingly, Emillia blamed 'is death on me. I just 'append to be dere at 'is final moments. I 'ad a nervous breakdown and dragged myself into a bad spell of depression.
Junior 'Igh School was easier on me den Elementary. I still got taunted, and up ta grade ten I didn't 'ave many friends. I was still despised by dose close-minded lowlifes. Guess what? I didn't give a damn! Dat attitude still lives on today.
Dere were close to a t'ousand students at Coney Island 'Igh. Some of dese students were from mainland New York, and were pretty street savvy. It was all pretty intimidatin' fer just about any "minor niner", especially one dat doesn't really "fit in" wit de rest. All I cared about is dat I got my woik done and dat I'd go t'rough a day wit'out torment. Ta me, soc-i-alization was da last t'ing dat was on my mind.
Dere were de students dat I remembered back from de days of elementary school. Mol-i-arty was in my science class, and in my drama class dere was a young Tuskernini, whom I managed to get along wit'. We'd set fire to the garbage cans and stuck dead fish in de lockers of students dat we 'ated. We started rumours about dose said students, even if it did result in gettin' our butts kicked.
Durin' lunch I'd often spend time in de lie-berry, jus' studyin' fer projects and whatnot. It was one afternoon in dere dat I met up wit' Ammonia Pine. Back den 'er name was Monica Pine, and even back den she was obsessed wit' cleanliness! She was a hefty young goil, but attractive none-de-less in a weird sorta way. Despite my appearances, she liked me. I was alright wit' 'er, and sometimes we even 'ad lunch toget'er. We never really became goilfriend and boyfriend, but dat was poifectly fine wit' me.
A little known fact is dat she once dated Quackerjack! She'd smack me 'round de 'ead wit' er mop if I told too many people. Ya see, dey didn't really get along wit' each other after Quackers spilled
Negaduck and I became de woist enemies. Da "prince of da darkness" 'imself was real popular wit' da ladies. I never really knew why, t'ough. Sure, 'e was more 'andsome den I was, but 'is temper-an-ment was a little somet'ing to be desired. My appearance and attitude was his reason fer dislikin' me. Youse see, as far as Negaduck was concerned, da school wasn't big enough fer two boids 'wit big egos.
It was sometime in de foist weeks of grade nine dat I was "diagnosed" wit' 'aving ADD, or Attention Deficit Disorder. De bastards dat called demselves professionals knew not'ing about me. When I told dem about my early childhood, dey dismissed it as bein' part of my imagination. Even if I did 'ave da scars to prove my cruel past.
It was once again dat I would be treated as some sort of "freak". Youse see, I was de only one in de school diagnosed wit' ADD. I was often singled out as being "different" from de rest, and because I was "different" I was somet'ing to be scorned. Nature of da beast, I suppose.
Yet, t'ings would change fer me once again. Dis time, it was a good change. At least fer me.
It was sometime durin' de middle of grade ten dat I started to hang out wit' de rough crowd. My buddies didn't care what I looked like. Dey respected me and t'ought I was pretty cool. I "toughened up" and started smoking and drinking. Before de age of sixteen, I stole two cars and drove around de Bronx wit' one of dem and each time I managed ta elude de efforts of police ta catch me.
I stole a few more cars, and even a few valuables of mom's. I sold 'em and once again eluded de efforts of police ta catch me. Fer dis reason, I was revered by de ot'er trouble making students. I taught dem what it takes to be a young villain. Some got caught, some didn't but none succeeded my reputation as bein' de master of car theift.
I earned de nickname "Lucky Chance" after stealing a total of twenty cars in a period of less den a year wit'out once gettin' caught. I laughed in de face of de law! I was young and unafraid, almost too much fer my own good. Dose stupid cops wouldn't catch me if I ran soicles (circles) around dem! Dere was a $5,000 reward fer my capture. I was an outlaw, and a damn good one at dat.
Yes, ev'ry t'ing was going my way. At least fer a while.
*~*
Dawning of A New Era
*~*
I met my destiny on de foist of November, 1980. It meant de days as a champion car thief would come to an end. On de plus side, it ment de beginnin' of a new reign. I would be treated like a king by my subordinates, but my life would be once again twisted ev'ry way. It never should've 'append to a boid.
I stole a car from New York City and led de police on a merry chase all de way to St. Canard. It was from dere dat I would den sell de car to a good ol' bad buddy of mine, Phineas Sharp. Unknown ta me, dis division of police were smarter and brought along a secret weapon; de dreaded, over-egotystical Darkwing Duck. Dat mallard was de one responsible fer ultimately ruin my life, but at de same time, gettin' me de 'ighest payin' job I could ever imagine.
I stupidly believed dat Darkwing was just a cop in trainin'. Wit' 'is ridi-culous poiple jacket, I didn't take 'im too seriously. None de less, as temptin' as it was, I didn't stop and jeer at 'im. Accompanying Darkwing on dat frigid night was Vladimir Grizlikoff, and I knew by past experience dat de bear was not a force ta be reckoned wit'. I sped off as fast as I could and left 'em fer dust!
Much to my delight, Grizlikoff's car broke down on de Audubon Bay Bridge. It gave me yet another chance at gettin' away wit' breakin' de law. While dey were busy, I t'ought up anot'er plan on causing chaos in dis city.
Already an expert at stealing vehicles in my youth, I wanted to do somet'ing even more daring. Fer da foist time in my life, I robbed a bank. It was a spur-of-de-moment t'ing really, but it was somet'ing ta brag about to my friends back in Coney Island. I managed to sneak outta dat place wit' five t'ousand dollars. I ended up setting off de alarm, but not bad for a foist try, right?
I ran outta da building and jumped back into de car as fast as I could. Darkwing was after me once again, dis time going after me on a prototype of de Ratcatcher. I lost control of de car when it skidded across a sheet of black ice. While trying to regain control, I struck and killed two pedestrians crossing de road before de car came crashing into McRott's Autoshop.
Some say dat I desoived being nearly killed in de crash. In some ways, I'll agree wit dem. My beak was more mangled lookin' den ever. Aside from numerous broken bones, I received a five inch gaping wound to my 'ead dat exposed part of de skull. I was in so much pain dat I wished someone would've shot me instead of going out of de way of removin' me from de wreck of what was once a Jaguar.
I spent six months in 'ospital before I would be taken under wing by de Fiendish Organization fer Woild Larceny.
*~*
Champagne and Caviar
*~*
De doctors at de 'ospital did what dey could to repair my beak. Dey tried ta repair it wit' plaster and two operations, but nothin' really woiked. De doctors performed two surgeries on me, but ended up screwin' up and makin' it look woise. As a last resort, dey called in F.O.W.L's prosthetic team to do what dey could.
After a invasive nine-hours of surgery, I was fitted wit' a new beak. Made completely outta metal, it would not only give me a new name, but a new life and sense of security as well. I no longer felt ugly and loathsome. Long gone were de days were people viewed me as a worthless, deformed creature. I was now good lookin' and proud as a king! De new beak gave me a dangerous edge, and I would be both respected and feared. One snap of dis baby once sent ten people fleein'. Now dat's power!
At last, I 'ad a mask ta 'ide my past from de woild. I could get on wit' life now. Audios to a life of cruelty! Goodbye freak shows. Goodbye dysfunctional family. Hello F.O.W.L!
Before leavin' my ol' place in Coney Island fer good, I spat upon the face of my mother and left laughin'. I was a real joik all right, but what I did to 'er was nothin' comparied to de cruelty she made me go t'rough. I suppose I was too much of a gentlemen to do more to 'er. I could'a killed 'er when I 'ad da chance, but I didn't, as tempting as it was. Besides, I was already in enough trouble wit' da law. I didn't need murder atop of car theft and robbery.
Woikin' wit' F.O.W.L sent me livin' in de lap of luxury. Among many t'ings, dey gave me a real nice an' snazzy apartment, complete wit' jacuzzi, insurance and all de trainin' I needed to become de top F.O.W.L agent. In gratification fer givin' me a new life, I made a promise to 'Igh Command dat I would woik my butt off to become de greatest agent ever.
Dis would be no ordinary nine ta five job. Spendin' an entire year in trainin', I was on my way to keepin' my promise. My trainer was Diamond, a gorgeous blonde 'aired feline who really showed me da ropes. If it weren't for 'er, I'd be "just an agent". Diamond taught me all it took ta become a top agent, from pullin' forgeries ta stealth techniques and black mail. Overtime, we became more den just partners.
It was on de eleventh month of trainin' dat 'Igh Command decided to place me on de list of da top agents. Eventually, I'd become Cheif Agent. It would mean more respect, more money. I would 'ave cute secretaries to flirt wit' and stupid Eggmen to boss around. All sounds like fun, eh?
Lemme tell ya, it all sounded too good ta be true. It most definitely wasn't all champagne and caviar. Bein' Chief Agent meant dat I'd 'ave more trouble wit' Darkwing; my woist occupational nightmare.
*~*
The Trouble That is Darkwing
*~*
Darkwing Duck was de one responsible fer practically ruinin' my career and image. Fer ten long years dat duck brought nothin' but trouble fer me. Lemme tell yas, if dere was an easy way ta get rid of 'im fer good, I wouldda done it long ago.
De foist time Darkwing Duck ruined a mission was back in September 18th, 1991. I was sent out wit' de Eggmen to take out all de oil from Oilrabria. 'Igh Command wanted ta market it off to gain power in de stock market. It was a good idea all right, but it was a failure. I messed up big time when Darkwing Duck proved dat 'e could be just as smart and crafty as me.
It was de foist mission out on my own wit'out Diamond by my side. Despite de defeat, I t'ought I did pretty good. I was young and aggressive at de time, and damn right devious!
De next mission was to stop de rotation of de earth wit' de use of a rocket. It was a fun little job. I got ta intimidate J. Gander Hooter, and got to mess up de weat'er and time of de day. Apparently little Gos'lyn t'ought it'd be alright if she could tell me what ta do! Youse could t'ank 'er fer screwin' up ano'ter well-laid plan.
A few weeks later, I was assigned to steal a prec-i-ous pearl from de St. Canard Aquarium. De "Darkwing Squad" got into de act. Grizlikoff also just 'ad ta get involved, but wit' a little bit of mind playin', I persuaded 'im dat F.O.W.L is da group ta woik wit'. It eventually backfired and I spent sime time in jail. Too bad mind control doesn't woik wit' Darkwing. I'll 'afta try 'arder on dat.
Next up was de "camping trip" job. It was my job ta go to de St. Canard National Park wit' dis mechanical bear to terrorize de place. I would den later turn pine trees into missile silos. It managed ta clear out most of de campers, but it didn't spook Darkwing Dork any. Da brazen mallard decided dat 'e just 'ad ta camp dere, along wit' dat brat Gos'lyn!
Let's skip ahead to a coupla months later. Ammonia Pine and I were once reunited ta pull a bank heist. Now, bein' a Chief Agent and all, bank heists aren't my t'ing. I'm more of a blackmail/forgery type of criminal. Anyways, while we were out doin' our mission, she proposed marriage. In a way, I didn't blame 'er. I did what I could ta snifle a laugh, but I cracked up. Later, I ditched 'er by rollin' around in da doit and makin' a complete ass outta myself.
Yes, she reported me ta 'Igh Command. I got punished and yelled at, but at least Darkwing Duck didn't come along an' toss me in jail. Yep, dat was da infamous "Cleanliness is Next to Badliness" incident, fellas.
A day later, I was back on de job. I 'adda take be part in a mission to control dis destructive F.O.W.L ball t'ng to basically destruct St. Canard. Sure, De Comet Guy got in de way at times, but I knew just 'ow to 'andle 'im. I made a simple disguise outta a bucket and a blanket, and Comet Guy fell for it. Ya see, he isn't what you'd consider de brightest star in de sky. He managed ta fall fer de trick, until Darkwing just 'ad to reveal my identity.
When St. Canard 'ad it's airshow in '92, it was time fer time fer me ta 'ave some a little more fun. I played around wit' de EGRT and scarin' de livin' daylights outta people. I got to tease Darkwing and dat tin'eaded Gizmoduck, and I learned dat gas guns taste good. I even managed ta scare Darkwing Dork a little. At de end of de day, I got put in de slammer. I suppose all good t'ings come to an end eventually. All in a day's woik!
Followin' dat stint, 'Igh Command sent Diamond out ta retrain me. When dey t'ought I was ready once again, dey sent me out on a mission to a tropical island. My job was to launch some sorta earthshaking device dat would lead to a woild tidal wave if F.O.W.L wasn't given a really large sum of money. S.H.U.S.H sent Grizlikoff to assist Darkwing Duck to track me down. Dose two mooks spent more time fightin' wit' each oter den worryin' about my attempts to take control of de woild.
Last but not least, dere's my little run-in wit' Taurus Bulba, De Steerminator. I wasn't bein' particularly villainous 'ere. Darkwing wasn't even after me! Ta say de least, I was 'aving a pretty good day. Taurus, on de ot'er 'and, got up on de wrong side of da bed! I teased 'im a little about bein' turned into a cyborg. He got real mad and took 'is anger out on me and da Eggmen. Yet I kept taunting 'im, and dat resulted in me 'aving my clothes burnt off. In an uncharacteristic display of cowardice, I fled and relocated to Miami.
I suppose yer wonderin' what 'append to me after de Steerminator incident. In de next chapter, I'll tell youse. It was an event dat would once again change my life forever.
*~*
Expect the Unexpected
*~*
Relocating to Miami was like goin' to paradise. I got a nice new 'ouse all to myself, complete wit' swimmin' pool. I would 'ave warm, sunny beaches to lie on, and plenty of cute goils to flirt wit'! Best of all, I was far from St. Canard, and far from Darkwing! Fer once, I could just sit back and enjoy life de way I should've.
Kinda like a dream come true, ya know?
Well, t'ings weren't all so peachy. Youse see, da bad t'ing was dat 'Igh Command was lookin' into replacin' me wit' a "better" agent. Dat little cowardly retreat nearly killed my career. Fer a while, I was da laughin' stock of da company. I ignored de jeers, but it really didn't do anyt'ing fer my repuation.
Dey gave me one more chance before I'd either be executed or ratted out to de police. Once ya get into dat organization, it's real tough gettin' out. Yer lucky if ya get fired.
I was once again retrained by Diamond. It was my only choice. Bein' retrained by 'er was like going back many years when I foist met up wit' er. She paitently showed me ev'ryt'ing once again step-by-step. She was da only agent dat really "knew" me. All de ot'ers just looked up at me as some sort of king, but never really knew quite 'ow ta understand da real me.
Once retrained, 'Igh Command sent de two of us to Malaysia. Were were to blackmail a millionare, steal an artifact and get back wit'out bein' caught. Despite some difficulties, we succeeded and I was able to keep my job. No slinking away in defeat dat time! I would do it again if I 'ad to.
Us two proud agents celebrated dat night wit' champagne and caviar while 'Igh Command gave us a raise. Wit' no Darkwing Duck on my tail ev'ry five seconds, my career became more successful den ever before. Dere were moments I slipped up and got caught, but dose moments were few and far between. I'm gettin' better wit' age.
Even at de age for forty, I sometimes feel like dat rebellious eighteen year old. Not long ago, I went back to Coney Island to set fire to de elementary school who's students once taunted me. I wanted to do dat fer so long. I sneered at de now-abandoned Freak Show Palace. I was tempted to set fire to dat place as well, but pyromania's not my t'ing. I 'ate gettin' soot on dis jacket!
I wandered t'rough my old neighbourhood and met up wit' my mother fer da foist time in over ten years. I felt both fear and anger upon seein' 'er. At 'er approach, I cringed, expectin' 'er to strike out and yell at me. She didn't. I wanted to tell 'er about what 'append to me, but I didn't. I wanted to tell 'er 'ow successful I am now, but I refrained. I just couldn't!
Later on dat day, I met up wit' Andreas at dear Antonio's grave. I remembered the good days dat Antonio and I 'ad. I remembered de time when I 'ad ta fish 'im outta da river when 'e was tryin' ta get onto a log raft. I remembered de time when I was ill with pnemonia again and 'e was de one dat brought me medicine and food. I remember when we were on vacation to Florida, de only vacation we actualld 'ad. Antonio got mis'rable after gettin' sunburned, but I managed ta cheer 'im up.
We caught up on de old times, and I was comfortable wit' tellin' 'im what 'append to me. Andreas didn't quite understood why I didn't tell Emillia about what 'append to me. I suppose de real reason was dat I didn't wanna anger 'er further, but I didn't tell 'im dat. Andreas told me dat Roberto was woikin' in St. Canard. It was tempting fer me to go an' track 'im down and do somet'ing 'orrible to 'im, but I didn't wanna get a bigger criminal record.
Andreas was married now and 'ad 'is own online business. De wife was a sassy little silver fox vixen from Russia. She was a manicurist, and at de time I met up wit' er, she 'ad Andreas' job was pretty good as far as pay goes, and 'e was 'is own boss! I wish I could've stayed longer, but I couldn't. 'Igh Command orders, ya know.
Dere's a lotta reasons why a lotta people like me. I'm a twisted, conniving individual wit' conflicting natures. I'm a criminal, and a lover. I despise my job and love it, too. I'm mellow, but 'igh strung and restless. Basically, I'm a fickle boid who jest can't make up 'is mind!
When yer around me, expect de unexpected.
*~*
In Conclusion
*~*
Youse now know what 'append to my beak, what my real name is, and you learned how I became F.O.W.L's best agent. You also learned dat I wasn't always evil, and dat my job wasn't all about gettin' money and bein' surrounded by beautiful goils. I wasn't always 'andsome, either, nor rich.
Over de years, I 'ave also learned a few t'ings. I learned from an early age dat if ya can lie real good, youse can get away wit' anyt'ing. I learned dat if somet'ing sounds too good to be true, it most likely isn't. I learnt dat it is invaluable to choose yer friends well, as I didn't. I learnt dat showin' my emotions wasn't always a good idea. Especially when yer woikin' fer 'Igh Command. One t'ing dat I learned about woikin' fer de organization meant givin' up freedom and all de 'opes and dreams of 'aving a real life.
Aside from learning about t'ings and making myself a figure of somet'ing to be reviled and revered, I underwent a few more changes in my life. I married Ammonia Pine in de summer of 2001, and nine months later, I was a father. We were a content family for a while, but over time, t'ings went downhill. Ammonia lost interest in me and took interest in a younger, even more better lookin' and more clever agent. She took Sugar wit' 'er, and I was again alone.
After twenny years of service, I was fired. I told 'Igh Command dat I completed an mission dat I failed. I suppose I got de easy way out. Most agents dat fail are either tortured to death, or if dey're lucky, killed by a firing squad. I 'ave enough money to keep me goin' fer de rest of my life, but de fact dat I failed de people who took me in made me depressed. I suppose now, 'owever, I 'ave de freedom dat I always wanted, and no longer would I 'ave to obey each and every order given by High Command.
I 'ave now come to de conclusion of de story of my life. Yet, despite dis, and de end of my career, my life continues to be an ongoing adventure. Each and ev'ry day brings a new challenge fer me. Dere may be a need for a sequel, dere might not be.
Despite my loss of power, I will continue to remain a surprise at ev'ry corner -- for I am twisted ev'ry way.
END
Disclaimer: The characters of DeSoto and Darlene Rameria Roberto, Antonio, Andreas and Emillia Volatilli are (c) Roaming Tigress. Diamond is (c) Kitsune Nevakhum. All other mentioned characters are (c) Walt Disney Corporation.