((Spoilers I’m in my 20s.
See
told you I’m old.))
//ERMAHGERD. *Flails* BUT YOU’RE NOT OLD. YOU’RE LIKE THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.
I was about to make a crack about drinking from the fountain of youth but that would have sounded really perverted, so I decided to just tell you about it.
(( …
? ))
ask-donald replied to your post: ask-donald replied to your post: Meet the Mun How…
… I’M SO OLD. ALL Y’ALL YOUNG WHIPPERSNAPPERS GET OFFA MAH LAWN *sits in a rocking chair knitting*//YOU LOOK LIKE I DO. YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE 14.
((Spoilers I’m in my 20s.
See
told you I’m old.))
“Chocolate? For me?” Daisy beamed, happily taking the box from him. “Oh Donald, you’re the best!” It was so thoughtful of him to give her this; she’d always preferred candy over flowers and chocolate happened to be her favorite candy ever! As if she needed it in her system right now, she was more wound up than a hummingbird. A second later, she pulled the male into a tight hug, nuzzling him lovingly.
Donald hugged her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her and leaning his head over to rest against hers. This was nice. Just nice, warm hugs from the girl he loves, everything peaceful, and nothing messing up anything. Really, the more he thought about it, it was a very rare moment. Something or other generally messed up things in his life. Better enjoy it while it lasts.As all good things come to an end, so did the hug. He (reluctantly) pulled back to ask, “So Daisy, do you have any ideas on what we should do today?”
Daisy was released from the hug for a moment, giving her a few seconds to study the box again. It was wrapped up with the cutest little bow she’d ever seen. She almost didn’t want to open it. Then again, she was hungry and she wasn’t one to leave candy just sitting there. She started untie the bow, pausing abruptly when Donald spoke up again.
“What to do…what to do?” Daisy chirped, tapping a thin finger against her bill. “Ooh! I know! Let’s go the mall! I haven’t been there in hours! No wait, let’s go to the beach!” Her expression became sly. “Or we could just stay here and snuggle all day.”
Donald perked up at her last suggestion, and was about to agree to it, when he stopped himself. What if it was some kind of test? Would she do that? … What was the right answer? Probably not the snuggling option. She seemed excited about going to the beach, but then he knows how much she likes going to the mall. Well, this was a fine how-do-you-do, wasn’t it? What to say, what to say…
He gulped, and went with his gut instinct. “The beach would be fun, Daisy,” he told her, thinking at least then he could get some fresh air. That’d be nice. And she had seemed excited about it. But just in case, he added, “Or whichever you’d prefer.”
((You’re a straight male and I’m actually Dennis the Duck. You know. From that one episode of House of Mouse. Yep. That’s me. It’s a night full of surprises. HAVE A SANDWICH.))//*Melted into a puddle of feel filled mess*
((HAAAAAAVE A SANDWICH.
))
//I DON’T LIKE TOMATOES. GET BACK IN THE KITCHEN AND MAKE ME A PB&J.
(( *sniffsniff* And to think, I was your biggest fan…
The duck’s face lit up with surprise and glee when she realized her boyfriend had found her. Goodness, it’d certainly taken him long enough! One would think they’d been playing an extreme game of Hide and Seek. Not that that idea didn’t sound fun itself. She quickly spritzed on some perfume before running a hand across her head, making sure there wasn’t a feather out of place.
“Hi Donald,” Daisy crooned sweetly, batting her long eyelashes.
“Hiya, toots,” Donald replied, grinning. Boy, was she ever beautiful. Especially when she did that thing with her eyelashes. He was very glad to have finally found her. As much fun as talking to the others was… there was just something unparalled about being able to spend time with his girlfriend.He straightened his bow tie before pulling a small box of chocolates out from behind his back, and handing them to Daisy. “Here, I got this for you.”
“Chocolate? For me?” Daisy beamed, happily taking the box from him. “Oh Donald, you’re the best!” It was so thoughtful of him to give her this; she’d always preferred candy over flowers and chocolate happened to be her favorite candy ever! As if she needed it in her system right now, she was more wound up than a hummingbird. A second later, she pulled the male into a tight hug, nuzzling him lovingly.
Donald hugged her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her and leaning his head over to rest against hers. This was nice. Just nice, warm hugs from the girl he loves, everything peaceful, and nothing messing up anything. Really, the more he thought about it, it was a very rare moment. Something or other generally messed up things in his life. Better enjoy it while it lasts.
As all good things come to an end, so did the hug. He (reluctantly) pulled back to ask, “So Daisy, do you have any ideas on what we should do today?”
((You’re a straight male and I’m actually Dennis the Duck. You know. From that one episode of House of Mouse. Yep. That’s me. It’s a night full of surprises. HAVE A SANDWICH.))//*Melted into a puddle of feel filled mess*
((HAAAAAAVE A SANDWICH.
))
The duck’s face lit up with surprise and glee when she realized her boyfriend had found her. Goodness, it’d certainly taken him long enough! One would think they’d been playing an extreme game of Hide and Seek. Not that that idea didn’t sound fun itself. She quickly spritzed on some perfume before running a hand across her head, making sure there wasn’t a feather out of place.
“Hi Donald,” Daisy crooned sweetly, batting her long eyelashes.
“Hiya, toots,” Donald replied, grinning. Boy, was she ever beautiful. Especially when she did that thing with her eyelashes. He was very glad to have finally found her. As much fun as talking to the others was… there was just something unparalled about being able to spend time with his girlfriend.
He straightened his bow tie before pulling a small box of chocolates out from behind his back, and handing them to Daisy. “Here, I got this for you.”
Donald glanced over to his now broken printer. It suddenly dawned on Donald that unless he could fix it, he’d need to buy another one. The boys would need it once school started back, and there’s no telling what other various things they might need it for before then. They don’t come cheap, either. He could totally fix it too. Probably just, you know, a paper jam, or something.
He jerked it free from the computer and tried to open it. “Darn thing must be stuck…” He looked around to see if there was something wrong with a hinge or something, but everything looked normal. He pulled harder, this time using his feet for added leverage, but still no luck. Banging it on the ground didn’t seem to help either.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a notification pop up on the computer screen. Temporarily abandoning his printer efforts, he clicked to read Mickey’s new message.
“Aww phooey. If you ask me, they should spell it the RIGHT way. You’re right, kids are different. They all want their own cell phones so they can text people instead of actually talking, but then they can’t even spell something as easy as ‘tumbler’ correctly.”
Having sent the message, he turned his attention back to the printer. No silly hunk of machinery was going to get the better of him, no sir.
Mickey had sat there for a full five seconds before letting out a loud groan and allowing his head to fall back down to his keyboard. Mickey was an active sort of person, one who could not just simply sit and do nothing. Especially after his day was halfway gone, and it was spent in less than a good way. He needed to fix it by leaving and going to do something constructive, just like, whether he knew it or not, Donald was doing. …Or perhaps destructive was the correct word.
Unbeknownst to Mickey until he made his appearance, Pluto had heard Mickey’s audible sound of frustration, and had come running to his aid. The dog, seeing his master slumped over his desk, whimpered and sat up, placing his paws on the mouse’s lap. Startled by this, having been distracted by his train of thought, he hadn’t noticed the dog making his entrance. “Gosh, Pluto! Ya scared me!” He told his companion as he sat up, placing his hand on top of the dog’s head. “Don’t worry boy, I’m fine.” He assured, smiling delicately down at him.
“Just thinkin’ is all.” Now scratching Pluto between the ears, Mickey returned to said activity. “What to do, Pluto?” He asked, more so to himself than his pal. As if to answer his question, the red notification popped up on the upper right hand corner of his screen. That was it! He would visit Donald. Being with a friend was a good way to end the day, right? He would just change his voicemail, explaining to Minnie that he had left to go see Donald, that is, if the duck said yes.
Clicking on the envelope icon, he read the message, giving another small chuckle as he made to reply.
“Gee, Donald, I don’t think it’s that bad. There are still some good kids out there, but I don’t know if I would pay to have my kid send tons of messages a day talking about nothing in particular. Do your nephews have cell phones? And I’m sure that it’s some kind of hit new thing to take out letters like the radio was back in our big break. Anyway, I was wondering if I could come over, seeing as nothing’s really going on here.”
A full five minutes to type that message.
Time to break out the big guns: a tool kit. Donald was pretty sure there was something jamming up the printer, somehow. If the stupid thing wouldn’t open on its own, he’d make it open. Pulling out the tools one by one, he paused briefly at the hammer before deciding maybe that wasn’t the best way to go just yet. “Ah,” he said, pulling out a screwdriver. “Here we go.”
Trying to twist the screw left didn’t work. Trying to twist it right didn’t work either. It wasn’t working on any of the screws. “Why you little…” he muttered through gritted teeth, trying as hard as he could to get the screw to budge. He slipped, and the screwdriver went flying out of his hand and across the room, smashing into a picture of Daisy. The frame fell from the wall and the glass cracked. Donald started yelling, alternating between shaking the printer and trying to yank it apart.
After a minute or so, he dropped the printer… and it popped open! Donald stopped his tirade, blinked, then smiled. Problem solved! “That wasn’t so—” his words were cut off as one of the cartriges squirted black ink into his face, before the lid slammed shut once more.
”!#$#&@$%^&#%^*@$%^@$%&!!!!”
He started jumping on top of the printer, then banged it on the ground a few times, before finally throwing it against the wall, where it lodged itself. Donald stood panting for a few moments before he saw Mickey’s message.
“You think I could afford cell phones for all three of them on what my Uncle pays me? Sure, you can come over, that’d be fine. See you in a few! (PS how much do you know about printers???)”
Mickey himself, hadn’t had the best of days, which is why he was awaiting a call from Minnie. He really needed to talk it out. He wasn’t used to things going wrong for him, seeing as he was the Mickey Mouse. Seldom did anything bad happen to him, unlike one of his closest friends. He pitied the duck at times, knowing that his nephews gave him trouble, Chip ‘n’ Dale were always a nuisance, and life itself seemed to get a kick out of throwing curve balls at him, but admired his ability to take it without going insane. If Mickey were in that position, he was sure he would have temper tantrums too.
Slumping back in front of his computer, he downed the glass of milk, and wiped the line it had made on his upper lip. Exhaling audibly after finishing, he opened his inbox. Nothing yet, it seemed. Sighing once more he pulled out a sheet of paper from his new printer, which he didn’t exactly favor over his fax, and a pen from the jar on the corner of his desk. He begun to busy himself with doodling aimlessly. Minnie’s name was written about four or five times in different variations, such as bubble letters, cursive, blocked, etcetera. A few stick figures doing hand stands were also drawn, along with a bunch of emoticon like things.
About five minutes later, he refreshed the page, finding Donald’s name. A smile found his lips at seeing it, knowing that at least he wasn’t alone in not doing anything productive. Seeing the last part of the message, he laughed aloud, a grin now played across on his face.
“Gosh, Donald. You sure know how to cheer a mouse up. I like them too. When I first tried to find the site, I spelt it ‘tumbler.’ How was I supposed to know they would take out an e? Kids sure are different nowadays, aren’t they?”
It took him a full two minutes to get the message back, making sure he wouldn’t make a full of himself by making an error in his message. Finally, he sent the message, leaning back to relax and let the milk settle.
Donald glanced over to his now broken printer. It suddenly dawned on Donald that unless he could fix it, he’d need to buy another one. The boys would need it once school started back, and there’s no telling what other various things they might need it for before then. They don’t come cheap, either. He could totally fix it too. Probably just, you know, a paper jam, or something.
He jerked it free from the computer and tried to open it. “Darn thing must be stuck…” He looked around to see if there was something wrong with a hinge or something, but everything looked normal. He pulled harder, this time using his feet for added leverage, but still no luck. Banging it on the ground didn’t seem to help either.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a notification pop up on the computer screen. Temporarily abandoning his printer efforts, he clicked to read Mickey’s new message.
“Aww phooey. If you ask me, they should spell it the RIGHT way. You’re right, kids are different. They all want their own cell phones so they can text people instead of actually talking, but then they can’t even spell something as easy as ‘tumbler’ correctly.”
Having sent the message, he turned his attention back to the printer. No silly hunk of machinery was going to get the better of him, no sir.
(Source: ask-donald, via the-king--of-the-castle-deactiv)
