Chapter Text
As like any other day the Vulture Squadron was soaring high in the sky chasing after Yankee Doodle Pigeon in one of Klunk’s strange contraptions, and like any other time, with very little chance of succeeding, which was quite evident as their commanding officer was falling fast to his demise, calling out for his canine companion to do something at the top of his lungs. After having a good snicker at him and a promise of a new medal, the hound agreed to help him, and grabbed him by his mustache, as Dastardly let out a yell and a grumble, but was grateful that he was only dropped down after he was only a few inches away from solid ground. When all of his men landed soon after, Dastardly didn’t hesitate, already marching towards them and preparing a long rant in his head to belittle them for another failure, when a laugh got his attention instead and he turned towards the source of it.
- Oh, marvelous! Quite the show, gentleman! I didn’t know the circus was in town!
- Circus? How dare you! Do you not know who we are? We are the famous Vulture Squadron!
- Infamous more like. All the other squadrons had a few things to say about you. And I assure you none of them were flattering.
The man dressed in red pilot gear hopped out of his just as brightly crimson painted Fokker, and walked over to the Vulture Squadron, taking a better look at them, to which he got quite a few nasty looks, especially from Dastardly, who did very little to hide his distain.
- I was hoping that the General was just joking when he sent me here, but now I see that new management is indeed in order.
- What are you talking about?
- Oh, my apologies, sir. My name is Max Richthofen, I’m the new commanding officer.
Dastardly’s face fell as the news was broken to him that he had just been demoted, while the man before him smiled smugly, but that overtly confident look from the shorter red pilot was enough to change his devastation into complete and utter fury.
- I heard of no such thing!
- Yes, well I did decide to come here a tad earlier to see what I will be dealing with, and from what I witnessed just now, it was the right choice. All these months and you can’t show any results. I mean it’s just one pigeon. How hard can it be?
- I-i-it’s a very s-smart p-p-pigeon …
Zilly tried to pipe up and defend his chief officer, but the only thing he got for his attempt was a mocking laugh from the red pilot, and that’s when Dastardly snapped. Only members of the squadron can laugh at each other’s mistakes, no one outside is allowed to make fun of his men, and he grabbed the red pilot by his scarf and lifted him slightly, which finally wiped the smile of his face.
- Hey! Unhand me, Schwein! I’m in charge now!
- Until I hear anything official you aren’t in charge of anything! If you think so highly of yourself then prove it! I challenge you to a race!
Max was startled at first, but soon enough that now familiar egotistical smile was back on his features, and he gently removed Dastardly’s hands from himself, and brushed off his jacket afterwards, as to rid himself completely of the other man, and when he was done he looked up at him asking “In what exactly?”. That’s when Dick realized that the last plane he had was completely wrecked in their latest attempt, and for an air race it’s quite necessary to have one, so he just turned to Klunk and yelled that he build him a new plane, pronto.
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After a few hours the new plane was ready to go, and the two pilots were glaring at each other from across their cockpits, as they revved up their engines. They agreed to fly across the base, above the nearby Bavarian town, making their way over across to the forest, and back to the starting point, and whoever lands first, without crashing of course, wins. The rules didn’t say anything else, so sabotage was in the cards, and Dick was ready to use the entire deck hidden up his sleeve.
Muttley stood before the planes, a good few feet away for safe distance naturally, but still visible enough, as he waved a white handkerchief, signaling for the two pilots that they can take off, and so they did. After they were off the hound joined the rest of the squadron as they watched eagerly if their current chief officer would win, except for Zilly who dared not to look, and hid inside his coat.
As soon as they were in the sky, Max took the lead, and laughed confidently that it would be an easy win, but Dastardly had other plans, and aimed his machine gun at the red pilot’s wings. He got in a few shots before Max managed to yank his Fokker away from the not so friendly fire, and yelled back that he was cheating, to which Dick only replied that the use of guns was never forbidden, and aimed again.
Now more prepared, Max pulled up the plane, and flew above Dastardly’s mismatched Franken-Pfalz, waving at him, as he landed behind him, for which now he was the one accused of cheating. He grabbed at his machine gun, ready to shoot down the thin pilot, when the sudden noise of a bugle made him jump, as Yankee Doodle Pigeon flew across, disrupting the race.
- It’s the Pigeon! After him!
Max hardly even had the time to question him, as the rules changed from flying in a circle above the Bavarian landscape, to stopping a pesky bird, but no matter what, he was determined to win, and win he shall. Well that’s what he thought, only catching the pigeon proved to be harder than he initially anticipated, especially with the insane pilot next to him, who couldn’t keep his plane steady and always seemed to end a bit too close in his flying zone.
After the two planes’ wings nearly collided for the third time, he turned over to call him a variety of colorful names, only to realize that Dastardly was not in the cockpit anymore, and instead halfway on his Pfalz’s wings, attempting to grab at the bird, while keeping the plane steady with the tip of his boot. The deranged scene before him left him speechless, and unable to look away from the madness, and doing so Max failed to notice that the two planes came to close to comfort again, until it was too late, and they crashed into one another.
Falling quickly, they decided to spend their last minutes arguing and placing the blame on the other, as if it still mattered when they were soon about to meet their maker, but it would mean a lot to the conscious that it wasn’t one’s fault, when clearly it was, on both sides. In the midst of harsh words thrown across the blue sky and debris, a parachute floated between them, that halted the finger pointing, and both of them grabbed at it.
Dastardly managed to kick Max away from it long enough to slip into it, and pulled on the chord, only nothing happened, and the red pilot grabbed onto him yelling that he can’t do anything right, and yanking the parachute open himself, and latching himself onto the thinner man. There was a moment of silence between them, as they weren’t falling, instead slowly drifting towards the ground, but it didn’t last for long, as Dick tried to kick off the red pilot again.
- Buzz off, buster! I don’t take passengers!
- I saved your life!
- I would’ve gotten it open … … … eventually.
- Yes, as soon as you became one with the Earth!
- Well I still got to it first, so I make the rules! Now get …
A loud slashing noise, made him stop in both words and actions, as they looked up slowly and with horror, as part of the falling debris cut up the parachute. They had enough time to look at one another and mutter a quiet “Uh-oh!”, before they continued falling again, only this time with less arguing and with more screaming.
Thankfully they already made it close enough to the ground to not end up in caskets, but they were still far up enough to create a pit in the ground as they landed. As soon as they were once again on solid ground, and a bit deeper down in the ground, and even very much so alive, they returned to what they were doing earlier up there and attacked each other with not just words now, but fists as well.
The rest of the squadron rushed over to break up the fight, but both sides already got in a few good punches, but what really broke up the two men was the sound of a telephone ringing inside of the fighting pit. Dastardly reached inside and pulled out a phone from seemingly nowhere, which was only questioned by Max, as the rest of pilots and the hound dog gathered around to listen in, as Dastardly picked up the phone with an overly saccharine “Hello?”.
- Oh, it’s you General! … Yes. I’m afraid he arrived. … General, if I may … uh-huh … yes … I see! … So, he’s not here to replace me.
As the Vulture Squadron became relieved that their commanding chief would remain, Max became just as pale and attempted to reach for the phone in Dastardly’s hand, but he kept pushing him away with his boot.
- Only second in command! … Well, I think we can all live with that. … Thank you, General! … Yes, we already gave him a warm welcome … oh …
Max finally managed to get the phone, as something said on the other line distracted Dastardly, and held it close to not lose it, as he begged for answers from the General, as he surely made a mistake, an ace pilot such as himself can’t be only a second in command in this Flying Circus.
- General! It’s me Richthofen! There must be a mistake! … … … There’s no mistake?
The telephone nearly slipped from between his fingers, as he slowly lifted his head, and came face to face with a thin smug smile from a second-rate pilot who couldn’t even fly himself out of a hangar, and the only thing he could think of at that moment was to beat the shit out of the other man who clearly didn’t deserve his position, and it proved to be such a satisfying thought, he acted upon it.
He got in a few more punches before he was pulled away from the thin pilot, and another ringing of a phone broke up the fight for good. This time Max reached into the fight pit, pulling out another telephone that seemed to materialize out of thin air and picked it up, as the General’s voice boomed from the other side of the line informing that both Dastardly and he are to be placed in solitary confinement for their constant fighting. Dick took the phone from him, as Max busied himself covering his ear from the sudden loud noise of the General’s voice.
- General? How is solitary confinement going to work if there is only one cell at the base? … … … We share it?
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Max paced up and down the cell, as Dick stood by the door and watched from behind the small barred window, as Muttley locked it shut, and tried to think of a way to weasel himself out of the situation, before grabbing onto the bars and peering outside to plead for his release.
- Come now, Muttley, you can’t do this to me! Your owner! I was the one who took you in and this is how you repay me?
The hound just nodded his head and said a series of “Yeas!”, not entirely caring for his owner’s demise, which just further frustrated Dastardly, right until he noticed something shiny in his dog’s fur that made him smirk.
- If you open the door and let me out I will surely reward you with a medal, Muttley.
Now that seemed to catch his attention, and was even willing to do so, right until the ringing of a telephone was heard. The hound walked over to the side and came back with the phone in his paws, and answered it, then handed it over to Dick with an “It’s for you.”, and he took it from him holding the receiver to his ear.
- Yes? … Oh, it’s you General! … … … Yes, I won’t attempt to bribe the guard again. I don’t want to be stuck here for another week. Yes, goodbye, General.
Dick handed back the phone and told the mutt that the deal was off, and he responded with a series of muttered curses, as he walked away. After the hound was gone, he turned around and bumped right into the other pilot that he had to share the small living quarters of the cell with for a week, and was met with an intense glare and a hissed “This is all your fault!”.
- My fault? You’re the one who crashed into me! You Sunday pilot!
- Excuse you! I was actually piloting my plane, unlike some who was performing a circus act on the wing!
- I was trying to catch the pigeon! I didn’t even see you try to make an attempt!
- I was! And just so you know, you could’ve shot it! Like you tried with me, you slimy limey!
Dastardly tried to argue back, but he had to realize that Max was sadly right, he could have done that, but he didn’t want to let him know so he only replied with “I was out of bullets!”, and tried to storm away, only to run into a wall in the very confined space. He stood there folding his arms, and tapping his feet, as if he was meant to do that, but soon turned around to the curious sound of something scraping against the wooden floor, as the red pilot drew a line across the cell with the edge of his boot.
- What are you doing now?
- Making sure I don’t have to be close to you! You stay on your side! I stay on mine!
Dastardly stood at the very edge of it, and studied the line, before commenting “Your space is bigger than mine.”, and received a shaking fist and another hiss as a reply.
- Cross the line and you will cross into my fist!
He was unimpressed with the threat, and stepped over the line, and was immediately grabbed, only the now familiar ringing could be heard, and as soon as Max let him go and let his arms down, the ringing died down with it as well, to which Dastardly just smiled smugly, and Max stalked away to his corner grumbling.
- Just stay out of my face.
- Gladly.
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