Chapter Text
Donald covers his ears as Panchito strings his, extremely, out of tune guitar. “How,” the rooster cut the duck off and stuck his pointer in the air. “Un momento por favor.” The rooster continues to glide his thumb on the strings, one by one. “Did it get this out of tune in the first place?” Donald continues his question as he crosses his arms and leans on the couche’s armrest. “I’m shocked it’s not broken!” the Mexican exclaims. “It was in the freezing cold closet for too long!” He hugs the neck of the instrument. “Mi pobre guitarra!” The waterfowl rolls his eyes, “Pobre guitarra indeed,” his voice messing up Spanish more than English. “It has to deal with you smothering it!”
“Aw Donal’!” Panchito sets his guitar off to the side. “If you were jealous you could've just asked for a hug!” The Duck screams as his friend leaps forward and pulls him into a spinning hug. His white feathers turn to a shade of red. From anger? Yes and no: he feels a touch of safety and butterflies in his stomach. The American attempts to escape the latin’s grasp. “Oh Donal’!” The rooster gives a sly smile. “Sense you are so jealous of an inanimate object,” Donald’s turn to cut him off. “‘Inanimate object? Then why are you treating it like it’s your girlfriend?” Panchito’s smile turns mischievous, “Do you wish to be treated that way?” Absolute angry gibberish came out of his vocals, with redden cheeks to complement it. The rooster begins to laugh then he plops the other onto their leather couch. Soon the duck’s accent went silent and his hands were now held in a choking position.
Panchito turns to the audience and gives a winked, “So angry!” he lets out a whole hearted laugh then sprints out to the door with Donald on his tail feathers. The two began to run around the shack. The Duck yells something but it’s untranslatable. “Apenado mi amigo, I can’t understand you!”
“Get back here!”
“There we go!” The two continue to play cat and mouse as José walks up to their property with groceries. “Ai,” he chuckles. “What did that chicken do now?” The parrot began to whistle down the path to the door. The other Caballeros continue with the game, running around the house. The green parrot sets the reusable market bags down and pulls out his umbrella. He leans on it and looks at the food and other necessities. “Tsk, tsk, tsk” the Brazilian clicks his tongue. “I’d rather they focus on helping out.” Soon Panchito ran past the porch and José got up. As the Duck ran past the parrot had his umbrella to his shirt. “Olá, meu amigo!” he chuckles. “How about helping me?” The waterfowl turns red at the side hug he received. “Yeah, yeah, I ‘ll help.” The duck pushes off of José and grabs the red handles of one bag. Donald then looks out of the porch, Panchito still running. He rolls his eyes at the rooster. “He's an idiot or he just likes running. Could be either.” Donald thought then walked into the shack. “Good to be back at the casa!” José joyfully states.
Home. It’s not exactly home for the duck yet. “What do you get? No beer I hope.” the white feathered bird mumbles the last part. “Donald!” The parrot placed his hand on his chest. “You know me better!” He pulls out cans of Caipirinha. Donald tilts his head, “Where did you get that?” He pulls out a bread loaf. “I have my ways, meu amigo.” The Brazilian smiles as he and Donald take out food.
Meanwhile outside, Panchito finally realized he wasn’t being chased by a short angry Duck. “Donal’?” he questions, scratching his head. He lets out a mmm and walks back into the house. “Panchito!” a Brazilian calls. “José!” The chicken runs to give his fellow latino a hug. “When did you return?”
“Há poucos minutos, a few minutes ago!” The Maxican let his short friend go. “Oh by the way,” José put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “What did you do to anger Donal’ again?”
“I wanted to show him affection but he didn’t let me!”
“That is not the full story and you know it!” Donald points a pen at the tallest. He had a list in his other hand and surrounded himself with the foods. The duck turns away as Panchito starts to tell the story. “Let’s see…” Donald looks at the list.
Milk
He looks around and sees the milk to the left, then he places a blue checkmark next to it on the list.
Water
He looks around, no jugs of water. “José?” He lifts his eyebrow. “Sim, Donal’ amigo?”
“Where’s the water?”
“Oh! I almost forgot. Panchito come help me bring them in, por favor?”
“¡Claro!” The rooster and parrot walked out, arms wrapping around each other. After a knot comes into his stomach from their actions he looks back to the list.
Pasta
There are three kinds:Spaghetti, bow ties, and angel hair. Each in a pile of four and to his right. He placed a checkmark onto the paper.
Peanut butter
Three of them right in front of him. “I probably got them hooked or they know I might go through all three by next time.” he chuckles to himself at the thought of his two best friends eating the paste with him.
Canned soups
Many soup cans to his right. Donald didn’t bother going through the cans to see what kind. None of the Caballeros are very picky.
Bacon, eggs, sausage, potatoes, and pancake mix.
“Why are they on the same line?” his mind questions. Then he remembers Panchito being so eager to put things down he had to hurry. He chuckles as he thinks about the memory.
Yesterday night, while José was in the shower, he was creating a list for the parrot to take to the store(it was his turn). He wrote down the basics to American household items as he was scooping the rest of the peanut butter into his mouth. He chapped Panchito's name and asked if he wanted to make dinner for them tomorrow. That's what got him jumping up and down, hyper and shirtless. Donald smiled at first but then his friend began to nag him on him making the list for dinner. The Mexican claimed he was going to make an excellent Mexican dish, ‘like my mama used to make.’ he promised. Obviously the American told him to wait and calm down. When you hype up Panchito, there is no going back . So he just hurried up.
Donald’s face began to heat at the thought of his shirtless friend showing off his red feathered chest. He shook his head and went back to the groceries. “Doanl’ we're back.” a mexican accent grunts. The Duck looks over to the two latinos carrying three water jugs. Two in José’s arms and one in Panchitos. The waterfowl looks back to the list and checks the water. “Set it down there.” He points next to a red cooler they’ve been using as a refrigerator. “Sim amigo.” the Brazilian puffs. Donald smiles and continues with the list.
Sugar: check
Brown sugar: check
Vanilla and maple extract: check
Orange juice: check
Chocolate milk: check
“Your turn Panchi.” Donald says and sets the list down with getting up. “I don’t know why we need to check it.” José sighs. “Last time you and Panchito went, you forgot two important things and misplaced one.”
“They were not that important.” The rooster began to argue back as he sat down. “Milk and peanut butter. Then you missed ham and replaced it with chicken. I still have no idea how you managed that.” The two latinos chuckled and rubbed their necks, looking at each other. Donald shook his head. “We're lucky, he didn’t ban us from shopping ever again.” Panchito thinks. “Such a mother hen.” He chuckles as he thought that, the way Donald sometimes reminds him of his mama. “What’s so funny?” José asks as their shorter friend walks to their bedroom, upstairs. “Donal’ is a mother hen.” The Brazilian chuckles at his remark. “He can be, can’t he?”
“Si! That’s why I said it.” The parrot smiles, “Anyways what’s for dinner?”
“Gorditas!” The rooster hums at the thought of them. He turns to his list and to the foods. “Have fun cooking then!” Jose waves then walks out to donald.
Panchito grabbed his and his amigo’s radio then put in his Café Tacvba Re CD. As the song began he silently sings to himself as he began cooking.
Donald plops on the bed with a sigh; he sinks into the mattress, hardened from the neglect from the birds disappearance. “It’s good to be back?” José asks. “It is.” Donald smiles. “How is the family?” the brazilian sits next to the American. Donald rolls over, “They're fine, heading to Greece.”
“Really? Without you meu amigo?”
“I volunteered not to go, I didn’t want to lecture Della or Scrooge. Nor the boys.” José lays next to his friend, “Ah, I see. What are they looking for?”
“They,” he paused. “I don’t actually know.” José gives him a concerned look. Donald just realized that’s not a good thing. “I,” he shut his beak, his mind swirling. His stomach begins to knot, his head a dizzy gaze, eyes wide. “They’ll be ok.” He says, to himself rather than the latin. “Are you sure amigo?”
“Yes.” he mumbles. “Della promised to keep them safe.”
“Are you,” The duck rolls to the green bird and puts his white feathered hand on his beak. “No, no. Please don’t make me think about it.”
“Sinto muito.” Donald lands on his back again, “It’s okay.”
“Do you think we’ll see Xandra again?”
“Of course! She might come to visit any minute.” The duck hummus in response.
“I don’t know, ever since she was freed from the book and went back to Olympus, we haven’t seen her.”
“She could be busy.” The Duck sighs. “I hope you're right and nothing bad happened to her.” José turns and smiles at Donald, “Everything will be alright.” Donald smiles back at him. “Thank you José.”
“Mi Amigos!” Panchito gently screams, “Food is ready!” he says in a sing-song voice. “Wow, time flys.” The Brazilian comments. “Yeah.” The two friends get up and walk into the dinning area. Donald looks around at his family’s heritage and artifacts from everywhere. Truly adventure is in his blood and ‘his calling’, according to Della. The twin is done with adventure now, he had it when he was younger, in the navy, and resent; relaxation and self-care is what he needs now. Especially after his and Daisy’s breakup, it wasn’t harsh, it didn’t work out that’s all. “Mi amigo?” the Mexican stamps the American from his trance. “Is everything ok?”
“Oh ya, sorry Panchi.” He sniffs the air, the spices tingling his nose. “Smells great!” Donald joyously comments. “I sure hope it tastes good!” The three sit down, and join together with a prayer; all speaking to different gods and hoping the next day will be calm, then they begin to eat.
“So where’s the family?” Panchito asks. “Greece.” the duck answers. “What,” José gently slaps the bird's arm then shakes his head. “What do you think we’ll do tomorrow?” the chicken asks. “I think we should go shopping, restart our garden.”
“We can do that!” The Brazilian joyously smiles. “Si, fresh produce is way better than store bought.” Donald smiles, “Also this is delicious, thank you Panchi.”
“Yeah thank you amigo!”
“Of course, anything for my bestest friends in the world!”
“Remember when we went to the Aztec Empire?” José asked before taking a bite of food. “Ah yes,” Donald chuckled then began to bump up his fist. “Life, life, life, life.” Panchito laughs, “¡Impresión perfecta mi amigo!” The trio laugh as they reminisce of the adventures. Recreating every word; “Gobin jail!” Panchito and José sang. “Come on Donald!” The parrot says. “Nope, didn’t sing it then, won’t sing it now.” The latinos laugh at the cross armed duck. “Hay don’t blame me, immortal goddess.” He raised his eyebrow at the chicken. “Ohhh! I remember that!” He smiles then walks to the bookshelf and jumps onto the top. “Panchi.” The Brazilian stood up. “You aren’t that young anymore my friend.” The Mexican seems not to listen, “Then call me an immortal goddess! Yeah-hoo!” He intimidates his younger self then jumps. “Panchito!” Donald screams as he jumps to catch his friend. José follows close with donald. Sadly for Panchito the two made it in time to clutter on top of him. “Ow.” The bottom of the pile whimpers. “We tried to warn you.” Donald grunts. The green bird painfully chuckles with a grunt. “We should have let him find out the hard way rather then jumping in.”
“Agreed, now get off of me!” The American bladders.
José climbs off of Donald and holds his hand out to help him. “Sinto muito.” The white feathered hand takes the other bird's hand and then they look at Panchito. “Ai, my back hurts.” The Chicken grunts in pain. His two friends then scatter to each side of the chicken and lift him by the arms. “I think that’s enough reenacting for one night.” The Duck suggests. “Si.” The Mexican grunts.
The camera then smoothly and slowly backs away from the trio out the window as Donald and José chuckle.
“I’m going to hit the hay.” Donald says. “Boa noite, meu amigo.” The Brazilian waves. “¡Buenas noches Donald!” The chicken waves.
The camera backs out into the outside as you watch the Duck walk to their bedroom and the other two taking a bite from their food.
Good night/daaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
An old wall phone rings and rings. “After the beep, leave a message.” a robotic voice says.
“Beakley?” A woman's voice screams in a panic. “Duckworth?” she continues to scream. “Donald? We need help we” the phone sizzles from the storm outside. Thunder crashing at the house. “Pissed,” Zizzles. “Gods,” Zizzles. “Off!” Lightning struck the mansion and the phone goes silent.