Sora and the World of Zootopia

Morgana McCawber

So whatever the reason, his parents or his love for comics, he stood outside his house hating the criminals that desecrated his city.

Drake Mallard was holding an indigo-colored Filofax in his right hand as his feet were planted in the grass of his backyard, thinking that a breath of fresh air was all he needed to control his temper. Criminal activity, as he had heard in the news, was reaching an all-time high and even though he had locked up nearly all of his major enemies, several of their fans had apparently honored their actions and were attempting to arrogate control of Zootopia, St. Canard and Cape Suzette from the ground up. Any of lack of activity as Darkwing Duck, and the city would be so corrupted from crime and civil disobedience, that he would not be needed anymore.

Putting his metaphysical confliction between the identities of himself and Darkwing Duck at rest, Drake placed his left index finger on the "T" section of his confronted criminals.

"By level of offense," he muttered to himself. "Taurus Bulba....I hate you for taking Gosalyn's family away."

He turned the page forward.

"Tuskerninni...I hate you for trying to reshape the film industry in your own image."

He skipped to the "B" section.

"Bushroot...I know you mean well about the environment, and your intentions are noble, but I hate you for being an eco-terrorist."

He turned the Filofax over to the "M" section.

"Megavolt...I hate you for trying to soak up all the electricity in Zootopia for your own selfish reasons. To think I liked you better when we were classmates."

He flipped back to the "L" section.

"Liquidator...I hate you for your various attempts to pollute the water reserve as well as having the purest of water all to yourself. Not to mention I completely loathe your inexhaustibly shitty slogans."

He glared when he went five chapters forward to the "Q" files.

"Quackerjack...I double-hate you for all those lethal toys. Children can get hurt from playing with action figures that have dangerous sharp accessories...as well as jackknives."

His anger increased even further when he came back to the "N" dossiers. Turning his voice into the growl of a beast.

"Negaduck...eternal damnnation."

Closing the Filofax very quickly, Drake knew that enough hatred in every area of his body was enough to send him flying through the roof, literally. He took a large lump of oxygen, swallowed it, turned his body one hundred and eighty degrees clockwise and walked back into the house.

In the kitchen he placed the Filofax gently down on the island table and walked straight to the door. He didn't bother to tell Gosalyn where he was going, he assumed that she was too busy doing her homework, playing video games or even reading college romance novels, something that was likely to either expand her vocabulary or deteriorate it.

Three blocks down from his house on 537 Avian Way took him to the Avian Cemetery. Drake, like any other "normal" citizen would have been saddened by the sight of graves belonging to the deceased, but kept a strong face in his own way respecting the victims of criminal actions and terrorism. Knowing that Gosalyn's relatives were buried beyond the hill that led to a five-hundred-foot width of tombstones, he decided to enter cemetery and perhaps pay a visit to her biological parents with the latest news in his life as Darkwing Duck. Drake was now wishing that he brought Gosalyn along with him in hopes of letting her talk to the parents that left her life too soon, walking all the way to the top of the hill. He peered over the view like a vulture, with his eyes scanning the sun dipping into the horizon. There was no one else there but him and he continued walking down the hill, resuming his search for the tombs of Gosalyn's mother, father and Professor Waddlemeyer...