[X] Sell more water
-[X] "Perfect for oil fires" The dog isn't going to notice in the heat (heh) of the moment but the suit might. Watch him squirm as he tosses you his cigar money.
"OH NO, THE HOUSE! HELP, MAXIE, HELP! WE GOTTA PUT IT OUT!"
You chuckle sinisterly to yourself as Goofy runs around aimlessly, frantically searching through the neighboring yards for a garden hose. As much fun as it would be to do the introduction right away, you have a better idea.
Putting on a tone of voice that might pass as conversational and your least malevolent grin, you recite the sales pitch that made you thousands in the last month alone. "Excuse me sir, but could I interest you in some water?"
"Huh?!" Goofy stops running to stare at you. It doesn't seem to dawn on him as to who you might be.
"Water! Perfect for oil fires. All natural, completely organic, non-GMO, without any sort of preservatives whatsoever!" You pull one of the plastic bottles from your trenchcoat. "All yours, for only $49.99!"
He pauses for half a second before tossing his entire wallet at your face, grabbing the bottle from your hands, and futilely attempting to douse the flames. He has exactly as much success as you'd expect, and the fire if anything gets bigger.
Negaduck Intrigue Check:
60+34+15=109
Russ Intrigue Check:
77+12+38+10=137
Russ Success!
Your interest lost, you turn to his entourage. The smaller version of Goofy seems confused as he looks between you and the newbie, more bewildered than terrified. The suit, on the other hand, has a spark of recognition that you can detect even from behind the sunglasses. He probably knows who you are, for some reason or another. Good. You like it when your work precedes you. Now, you just need to-
"Max! Your day of reckoning has finally come!"
Oh, right. The rookie.
"Huh?"
"PREPARE TO FACE THE UNBRIDLED WRATH OF YOUR ETERNAL NEMESIS, THE XTREMIST!"
You could tell he pronounced that word starting with an X. Ugh. He's not off to a good start.
The impotent declaration didn't seem to get much of a reaction out of its intended target. "Uh… I'm sorry, do I… know you?"
"Do you know me? DO YOU KNOW ME?!" The rookie reaches up to remove the ostentatious and overpriced bike helmet with projections that look like horns, provided you look at them from the right angle. "IT IS I, MAX! BRADLEY J. UPPERCRUST THE THIRD!" The young dog's face is twisted in a demented expression that you have to admit isn't all that bad. Definitely gets the unhinged murderous intent across.
That gets a reaction. 'Max's jaw drops as his brain struggles to keep up with the shocking twist. "What th… how?! You- you're supposed to be in jail!"
Goofy, turning away from his burning house, looks even more confused than before. "Maxie, do we know this feller?"
"What th- Goofy! It's me, Bradley! We were fraternity brothers, remember?!"
"Nope."
"Gamma Mu Mu?!"
"Not ringing any bells."
"You lit me on fire during your fraternity pledge?!?!"
"Hrm. Well, that doesn' sound like somethin' I'd do."
"Tank tried to put me out in the punch bowl, but someone spiked it with Everclear and I went up like a roman candle?!"
You and Goofy share a few seconds of laughter at the whelp's misfortune. Funny, you never would've thought the Famous Goof would find someone else's suffering that amusing.
"Oh yeah! Now I remember!" Goofy recalls. "You blew up that blimp, got us all expelled, and got yerself tossed in the hoosegow for the last twenty years!"
"It was only seventeen years!!!"
"Has it really been that long?" Goofy asked, mostly to himself.
"Shut up so I can hit you with my skateboard!"
Bradley Martial Check:
45+25=70
Max Martial Contest:
87+8+14+12+10=131
Max Success!
The so-called 'Xtremist' prepares an attack by winding up with his skateboard and swinging it clumsily at Max's head. Both he and Goofy are able to sidestep the attack with seconds to spare as you stand there, watching. Not all that impressive for a debut, it must be said.
"Ngh- HOLD STILL AND LET ME TAKE MY REVENGE!"
You sigh. At this rate you're going to have to hold them down for him.
"Why do all our trips end in violence?" Max bemoans. "At least this idiot is less competent than usual."
"Hey!" Your lackey complains. "I'm plenty compet-"
"We need to run."
You turn your head. Unexpectedly, the suit seems to have a lick of sense in him. He's already gotten back on his motorcycle and revved it up, which you must have missed during the fun. His toneless, flat voice snaps the other three out of their wacky antics.
"You see?" your useless idiot asks, almost literally puffing up. "That guy knows to be afraid of me."
Max speaks up. "Russ, I'm usually the first to run in these situations, but this is your specialty! Plus we've dealt with Bradley before. Can't you kick him and his weirdo friend back to St. Canard?"
"That's Negaduck."
You hear audible gears turning in the young Goof's head until, with the ding of a typewriter, the gears pull themselves out of his ear and run, screaming, down the street.
Now you do the intro.
You raise your cape dramatically, allowing the neverending desire for carnage and chaos to well a bit closer to the surface.
"I am a dark cloud over the picnic of justice. I am the mustard stain on the favorite shirt of civic pride. I am the sharp gust of wind, tugging away the kite of societal cohesion! I am Negaduck!"
"And the Xtremist!"
"And the Extremist." you admit unenthusiastically. "So nice to know someone here knows villainy when they see it."
The little goof makes a very satisfying noise that sounds like 'meep'. The big goof, unsurprisingly, still hasn't gotten it.
"Well gee." Goofy pontificates. "That name does sound familiar."
"Goofy." The suit says slowly and carefully, in an ultimately pointless attempt to avoid provoking you. "That is the most dangerous toon alive. We need to run, now. He could kill us in a minute flat."
How do you respond?
[ ] "A minute? Well well well, someone's got a high opinion of themselves."
[ ] "Not necessarily. Sometimes I like to stretch things out."
[ ] "Fellow toons are my favorite, they last longer."
[ ] Write-In
