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"Settle down, there, drama queen." The words hit Drake hard as he takes a moment to step back, metaphorically that is. The cop in front of him looks bored, rolling his eyes and barely acknowledging the fact that Darkwing Duck just did his job for him. He should be thanking him, instead, the fat pig before him was ridiculing him. Drake was simply explaining to him what it was that The Beagle Boys were after this time. So what if he over exaggerated the fight a bit? Who didn’t!? But to be called a drama queen, well, he never hated two words juxtaposed together more.
He always hated that phrase. Drama queen. Words that brought Drake back to his early years of being in school. His love of theater and being in drama club only amplified the fact that he was Not Normal in the eyes of his peers. When Drake hadn’t even figured out he was a he. He was the drama queen. Always overreacting and over acting, even if it was just reading Shakespeare in English class.
And here it was again, drama queen. Just the spelling of the word made him want to become illiterate. He felt a hand on his shoulder, a firm and familiar grasp. Launchpad . His brain told him, as if he could forget the name of one of the most important people in his life.
“Just be glad I know how to do your job.” Darkwing replied, his heart racing as he glared at the pig one last time before turning around with a whoosh of his cape. Was that a bit over dramatic? Maybe. But he’s Darkwing Duck, and that’s a good enough excuse for him now.
“Let’s go, Pilot.” Drake mumbled, pulling at Launchpad’s cape as he all but dragged them to the Ratcatcher.
“Ya know.” Launchpad began, watching as Drake put his helmet on and started the engine up, “I like it when you’re dramatic.” he said, shooting a wink over his shoulder at the hero.
“Thanks, LP.” Drake replied sincerely, a soft smile spreading across his beak.