Toy Store-y {open}

[Quackerjack]

When you're in the toy biz, it's never too early to think about Christmas. Quackerjack's new holiday toy line was ready, and he'd really outdone himself this year. At least, Mr. Banana Brain thought so.

Determined to get his merchandise on store sherves and so into the public eye, Quacky spent days working out his advertising strategy. This is what he came up with:

It was almost closing time at Epcot City's largest toy store, Toys R We, when Quackerjack's army of mechanical soldiers marched into the parking lot, their general perched on the biggest tank of all -- the Mega-Panzer X-2000. The shoppers laughed at the sight of a full-grown duck riding a toy tank, until he blew up a couple of cars. Then they high-tailed it out of there as fast as they could run.

The store employees did their best to escape as well, though a few were forced to hide inside when the entrance was blocked by the miniature army.

"General Quackerjack says: Bring in the new toys, men, and stock 'em on the shelves!" he ordered his troops. "They have to be ready for tomorrow's crowds of happy shoppers."

The tiny soldiers began to file inside, bringing truckloads of brand new toys along with them.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Once again, the city was rocked by an explosion. As soon dusk had fallen, Basil had gone out seeking for crimes in the persona of his alter-ego, and this ominous sound just might be the herald of such.

Yes, indeed, the direction of the noise led the Midnight Mouse to a toy shoppe which was under seige from, of all things, a horde of toy soldiers. Absurd as it may seem, the figures evidently posed a danger to the public, as the smouldering remains of a motorcar would attest.

Justice surveyed the situation from the concealment of a lamppost. He might attack, blasting the toys with his energy beam. But there were so many, he would likely be overwhelmed.

Where brute force failed, subtlety might yet win the day.

Stealing from shadow to shadow, the Mouse of Mystery made his way stealthily to the very outskirts of the miniature army, choosing as his target the very last soldier of the battalion. That unhappy straggler soon found himself efficiently decapitated by Justice's blade.

Pausing only a moment to make certain the other toys hadn't detected him, Basil hastily stripped the uniform from the doll and donned it over his own costume, emerging as a facsimile toy soldier.

True, they were a bit taller than he, and their faces were decidedly canine rather than rodent. But perhaps they would not be able for all that to tell the difference. They were but machines, after all.

[Quackerjack]

Quackerjack cackled to himself as his tank rolled inside through the automatic doors, followed by his entire platoon, some holding their weapons at the ready, others hauling in boxes of toys.

"First thing to do," he intoned, surveying the shelves around him, "is to get rid of all these inferior toys. Troops! 'Tenshun!"

The toy soldiers, as one man stood erect and saluted their commander-in-chief, who continued barking out orders.

"Empty these shelves, men. Toss all this stuff into the dumpster."

As they moved to comply, the Clown Prince of Crime gloated to Mr. Banana Brain. "Soon this store will be filled with Quackerjack toys, and nothing but Quackerjack toys!"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Once inside the shoppe, Justice was careful to remain surrounded by toy soldiers as much as possible, in order to stay hidden from the villain's gaze. For it wouldn't take a genius to spot the one mismatched soldier among all these identical toys.

As the soldiers stood silently in their ranks Basil had opportunity to observe this Quackerjack. Was he really conversing with that hideous fruit-shaped puppet? This chap must be positively barking mad!

No time to ponder that now, for the mechanical army was on the move once more. Now they were removing the toys from the shoppe, and Justice had little choice but to join in.

There must be something here Basil could turn against that lunatic villain, something that could be made into a weapon. The detective scanned the stacks and stacks of toys even as he helped to carry them away.

His eye was drawn to an aisle filled with toy guns. If some of them fired actual pellets, he just might be in business.

[Quackerjack]

Quackerjack was having a teriffic time playing soldier (general, to be precise). After all, if you couldn't make crime fun, then what was the point?

"Report, Colonel Banana Brain!" he barked orders to his subordinate.

"All exits are secure, sir. Our troops are in place to make sure the enemy doesn't launch a sneak attack. And the contraband is being disposed of on schedule."

"Very good, very good. If everything goes smoothly, you just might be in for a promotion."

"Nothing can go wrong, sir," replied the puppet with confidence.

"Oh? Then what do you call that, Mister?" Quacky pointed an accusing finger at a toy soldier up on a shelf who, instead of hauling the toys away, had opened a package and was shouldering a plastic gun like a bazooka.

"Halt, soldier. I command you to halt!"

"Hmm..." mused the toymaker with a critical eye when his creation failed to respond. "Must be defective. Even its face is all wrong. Almost looks like a mouse..."

"Wait a sec...it is a mouse!"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Justice knew he had only a few minutes at best before his subterfuge was discovered, and he intended to make the most of that time.

Slipping away from the toy army, he leapt up onto one of the shelves, there to select his weapon of choice: a beauty of a rifle which, although merely a child's plaything, fired hollow white spheres each as large as the mouse's head. If he could fire them rapidly enough...

"Wait a sec...it is a mouse!"

So much for stealth. The Midnight Mouse tore open the wrapping, balanced the weapon on his shoulder and levelled it at the costumed duck.

Still, it would never do to fail to give one's foe a chance to capitulate. Bad form, and all that. "Surrender, in the name of Justice!" he shouted, pondering what a splendid battle cry that would make.

[Quackerjack]

"Surrender?" repeated Quackerjack. "Are you nuts?"

After all, who was twenty times bigger than who? Still, it wouldn't hurt to get a little advice from his junior officers.

"What do you say, Col. Banana Brain?"

That wise fruit-headed veteran decided the issue. "Not in this lifetime, pal."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Colonel." Quackerjack levelled the muzzle of his tank directly at the little pest. "Ping-pong ball gun, meet tank!"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Never let it be said that Justice didn't give a fellow a sporting chance. But this clownish duck obviously had no intention of surrendering.

Basil wasted not a moment more, but fired upon the villain before he could bring his tank into play. One release of the toy gun's trigger sent forth a hail of the white spheres, which must pack quite a sting, besides making a superb distraction.

Once his ammunition was depleted, Justice sprang instantly away, leaping onto a nearby display of building bricks. The time for disguise was over; he would defeat this fiend in his own person.

It took mere moments to whip off the uniform which covered his costume, and Basil tossed it aside with a flourish. "Turn and face Justice, the Cloaked Cavalier!" he cried, before leaping once more to the base of the pile, where his keen eye had detected just the brick that was wanted.

Pulling this vital piece free, Basil leapt aside just before the entire mountain of wooden bricks crashed down in a landslide of toys.

[Quackerjack]

A hail of ping-pong balls blinded Quackerjack, and they hurt, too. He fired, but it was too late; the shelf was blown to smithereens, but the mouse had dodged it somehow.

"No fair," wailed the jester. "Stand still so I can blast you!"

He swivelled the tank turret around just in time to face a mountain of wooden blocks which collapsed on his head.

Crawling painfully free, Quacky growled, "Nobody, but nobody turns toys against ME!" Reaching into a hidden pocket, he pulled out a plastic egg. "Eat Nutty Putty, do-gooder!"

Hurling the egg with all his strength, the lunatic villain suddenly remembered that Mr. Banana Brain was still buried somewhere under the blocks.

[The Masked Mallard]

There was no criminal in Epcot City quite as extravagant or as careless as Quackerjack. There was also no criminal in the Dreamer's rogue's gallery (or that of Scrooge's) who was obsessed with toys either, the Masked Mallard mused. He found it quite peculiar that a grown man would be so fixated with children's playthings, but he wasn't here to play psychiatrist. That was his brother-in-law Ludwig's job. No, he was here to take care of business.

He entered the toy store through the back entrace. All it took was one strong quick tug on his part to break the lock, and he was in.
Most of the commotion was coming from somewhere towards the front of the building. Apparently the demented duck was locked in combat with someone else. Carefully but quickly, the Gentleman's Crimefighter moved down the aisles and past displays of toys.

While casing the building earlier, he had noticed the swarm of toy soldiers smiling around, and every time one came near, he would hide himself until they moved on. His intention was to find Quackerjack and stop him, which would hopefully stop the toy solders, but his plans were interrupted when he turned the corner and found two store employees backed into a corner by a threatening platoon of the tiny soldiers.

"Hey!" The Masked Mallard shouted to get the soldiers' attention. "Wouldn't a superhero be a more appealing target then a few teenagers?"

The solders, numbering at least three dozen in all, turned in his direction and began marching towards him. As they did, they brandished their firearms and began shooting in his direction. The Mallard turned to run, hoping to draw the toys away from the teens and allow them the opportunity to run to safety.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Justice had leapt clear before the tank fired. Egad! That so-called toy was capable of quite an explosion! Still, it couldn't hurt what it couldn't hit, and Basil would rely on his enhanced agility to keep him out of the way of further attacks.

Like this one, he thought, as a painfully-coloured sphere came hurtling toward him. Once again, Justice stepped aside, and the orb clattered to the ground beside him, breaking open at the seam.

If Justice had been more familiar with Quackerjack and his bag of tricks, he mightn't have remained quite so close, but it looked so much more dramatic when the weapon missed him by mere inches.

When the egg opened, it spilt out its contents, a fuchsia-tinted glob of some unknown substance. "Hello--what's this?" Basil's scientific curiosity was aroused at the sight, delaying him for an instant as he contemplated securing himself a sample for later analysis.

A fatal mistake, for once exposed to the air, the stuff expanded at an alarming rate, speedily engulfing the Mouse of Mystery in a sticky mass from which he could not extricate himself.

This called for an application of his energy powers. Justice sent forth a radiating blast--no good, it seemed to be absorbed by the weird goo.

[Quackerjack]

Quackerjack did notice that his Nutty Putty worked; the little rat was stuck, but good. No time to gloat, however, as he must rescue Mr. Banan Brain.

Digging frantically through the spilled blocks, Quacky called out to his chum, "Hold on, Mr. B. I'm coming!"

Finally, he came upon a floppy arm and pulled the puppet free. "Are you okay? Speak to me! If you killed him, rodent, I'll make you pay!"

A little CPR seemed to do the trick, however, and his fruit-headed friend soon started coughing and gasping for air, a good sign, all things considered.

"Oh, Mr. Banan Brain, I was so worried," began Quackerjack. But tearful reunions would have to wait. Straightening up, the duck jester assumed a more military posture befitting the leader of an army.

"Well, Colonel, it seems we have a spy in our midst. This enemy agent," here he pointed an accusing finger at the en-gooped mouse, "Was wearing one of our uniforms. A clear case of espionage. What is the proper penalty for spies in wartime?"

Mr. B did not hesitate. "Death by firing squad!"

"Right! Troops! Fall in!" At the command, toy soldiers from all over the building stopped whatever they were doing and marched back to their creator.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Though he struggled mightily, it was no use; the substance, whatever it was, was simply too strong for Justice to break free. All he managed was to extricate one hand, and his energy poweres were rendered totally inert by the stuff.

As the toy soldiers began to assemble, forming ranks and pointing their rifles in his direction, Basil had little doubt that their shots would prove lethal, despite their harmless appearance.

Think, man, think! There must be some way out of this.

Pne thing was plain as print: his captor, Quackerjack, was mad. And Basil had heard it said that the best way to handle lunatics was to humour them.

"I say, er...General, what about a last meal? Isn't that standard procedure, even for a spy?"

[Quackerjack]

"A last meal?" The question took Quackerjack by surprise.

He wasn't at all inclined to give in to the request. But, he was General Quackerjack now, and proper military procedures must be adhered to. I mean, that's the way you play the game.

"Well...okay. But no stalling. It has to be something here in the store."

It wasn't exactly a culinary spot. But looking around the store did turn up something. "Here's some candy. Do you want Pop Rocks or Nerds?" Quacky ripped open the packages without waiting for an answer. "Here, have both. Only hurry up. I want to get to the execution part."

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Pop Rocks? Nerds? Neither one sounded like something Basil cared to put into his mouth, although he accepted them with his one free hand.

"Actually, I should much prefer a cold drink. I saw some bottles in that glass-fronted ice box over there."

He had no idea what was in said bottles, but had formed a desperate plan, and a cooling drink was an integral part of same.

[Quackerjack]

So, the prisoner wanted a soda instead of candy. What did Quackerjack care one way or the other?

"Colonel Banana Brain, get the prisoner a soda."

"Why me?"

"Because I said so, and I'm the general!"

"Well, that's no reason to be bossy!"

Boy, the army sure isn't what it used to be!

Ignoring the rank insubordination of his officer, Quacky watched the fruit-headed puppet open up a cooler and remove a bottle. He needed the duck's help to twist off the cap, though.

"Here's your Coke. It's the Real Thing, y'know. Hmm, guess I'll have to hold it for you, too. Well, General Quackerjack is a generous foe, even before an execution."

So saying, the lunatic duck held the bottle to his prisoner's lips.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

This was the moment Justice had been waiting for. Reaching up with his one free hand, he tugged at the mouth of the bottle, spilling its contents all over the putty.

For Basil had observed a message printed on the side of the egg from which the offending substance had sprung: CAUTION: Contents sensitive to cold. DO NOT REFRIGERATE.

What effect this unnaturally effervescent liquid would have was unknown, but he felt it was a gamble worth taking. Especially as there appeared to be no alternative.

The strange beverage fizzled and crackled as it doused the pink putty. Basil couldn't help but taste a bit of it, and it was surprisingly good.

But, no time for that now. The Midnight Mouse heaved with all his might and found, to his supreme satisfaction, that the goo had lost its elasticity. In fact, it had become marvelously brittle.

With a loud crack, Justice's sword arm was free. He shot a bolt of energy squarely at the clownish villain before turning to the problem of his legs. Happily, they broke through the hardened putty quite easily, and Basil was loose once more.

True, his costume was stained with that...Coke, it was called, and bits of pink putty still clung here and there, but he was no longer a prisoner.

A swipe of his rapier took the arm off the nearest toy soldier, while a precipitous shove toppled a few others.

Not waiting for them to gather themselves for a concerted salvo, Justice leapt over their heads to the nearest shelf.

[Quackerjack]

Everything was happening way too fast.

First the mousey spy spilled his soda. "That wasn't my fault!" whined Quackerjack automatically. But then he saw the impossible: his Nutty Putty crumbled like a week-old cookie and the prisoner was free!

Before the jester duck could make a move or issue an order, a jolt of energy hit him right between the eyes. "Ow! No fair! No fair!" he wailed piteously.

Maybe Quacky couldn't see the little rat, but that didn't mean his army couldn't. "All troops, fire! Nail that sucker!"

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

Justice flattened himself behind a stack of jigsaw puzzles, wondering whether the pasteboard boxes would be enough to protect him as a hail of bullets ripped into them.

As it turned out, they made an excellent shield; the Mouse of Mystery remained unharmed. But how was he to put a stop, once and for all, to this mad duck and his army of playthings? Think, Basil, think! he admonished himself mentally.

The toy soldiers fired at regular intervals, following their general's orders. It wouldn't be long before their shots tore the puzzles to bits, and Justice along with them. Remarkable machines, that responded to voice commands.

Voice commands...hmmm...

Although the detective was woefully ignorant of the latest 21st-century technology, he pondered just how discerning these toys might be. At least, it was worth a gamble.

Waiting for the lull of relative quiet between salvos, Justice shouted in his most commanding voice, "About face!"

[Quackerjack]

Rubbing the sight back into his eyes, the duck jester continued to shout, "Shoot! Shoot!" an instant before realizing that his soldiers had just turned to face him.

"No!" he shrieked, "Not me! I'm your leader!" If Quackerjack had kept his head, he might've realized that a "Cease fire" would yield better results.

But, no, he panicked in the face of all those tiny rifles, turning to run as fast as his jingling shoes would carry him, out the front door of the store and into the arms of the law.

[Justice, The Cloaked Cavalier]

At last, Justice had solved a case, his first since landing in this inhospitable world. What's more, he had defeated his foe single-handedly.

Unspeakably proud of a job well done, the mouse did his best to brush off his costume and make himself presentable. After all, there might be gentlemen of the press waiting outside, mightn't there? It would not do to meet them looking like a vagabond.

Unfortunately, his garb was rather the worse for wear, with...what was it called? 'Coke?' spilt down the front and bits of pink putty clinging here and there. But Basil would simply draw his cloak round himself to cover all these irregularities. Anyway, that would add to the mystery of his reputation. At least, the reputation he hoped to create.

"Troops! Dismissed!" he issued one final command, at the sound of which, the toy soldiers all wound down, lowering their weapons.

With an impossibly smug smile, the Midnight Mouse paused to retrieve one severed toy head, a souvenir of his first case, before strolling out of the shoppe to meet his destiny.