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dellyduck · 1 year

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Traffic Court

Thanks to @kaderp, I have been down into a Pixar Cars rabbit hole for the past week.

She came up with the idea for this Cars X Ducktales AU (where the characters are still ducks, they just drive cars, thank you very much), and well, I simply had to rewrite at least one scene from the first movie into this AU.

I have lots of fun writing it, just like I’m having fun developing this AU with Kader in general, so if any of you are interested in reading, I hope you guys enjoy this “little” scene ^-^

“Radiator Springs’ traffic court, come to order!”

Dewey was used to crowded places; being the center of attention, having people screaming and yelling at him – it all came with the fame, and he normally adored all that.

However, when the courtroom’s doors shot wide open and the eight or nine people who lived in that town started getting on his face for the mess he had caused, Dewey never wished a “crowd” would ignore him so bad.

‘I don’t know what’s worse,’ he thought grumpily, as Launchpad continued pushing him through the people and to the front of the room. ‘This, or that tent of old hicks yesterday.’

Nah, this was worse. At least yesterday, Drake was there to drive him far away from those bumpkins as soon as his contractual presentation was over. With these bumpkins right now, he was stuck.

Launchpad forced him to sit on the accused’s chair. All the other seats on the front were empty, included the judge’s, and the only other person in that part of the room with him was the short yet with a fierce gaze woman that had arrested him in the first place.

Said fierce gaze didn’t intimidate Dewey in the slightest – they couldn’t really touch him there, not with him being who he was and them being a bunch of nobodies.

“Officer, talk to me babe, how long is this gonna take? I gotta get to California pronto.”

“Where’s your lawyer?” The sheriff ignored him.

Dewey rolled his eyes, “Uh, I don’t know- Aruba, maybe. He has a timeshare there.”

“If the offender has no lawyer, the courtroom will assign one for them,” quoted the sheriff, lowkey looking as tired of Dewey as he was of this place. She looked to the audience of nine people, “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

Immediately and collectively, the town pulled their chairs one step behind. Everyone, that is, except Launchpad.

“Gee, I’ll do it, Sheriff Cabrera!” The man shrugged, looking by no means bothered by that outcome. He joined Dewey on the accused’s table and the sheriff spoke again.

“All rise. The honorable Doctor Scrooge has arrived.” Her eyes fell on Dewey again, and she added only to him, “May Doc. have mercy of your soul.”

The Duck boy gulped, that so sure feeling that nothing bad could happen suddenly nowhere to be found.

The court’s doors shot open once more, “Alright! I wanna know who’s the responsible for wrecking my town.” The voice with a tick Scottish accent was as strong as the heavy steps that followed into the room. “Sheriff, I want his head on a platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, scratch that- I’m gonna put him in jail until the jail rots!” The angry man got to the podium and to the judge’s chair. “Then on top of that jail I’ll put another one until that jail rots. I’m-”

His voice died as soon as his eyes fell on Dewey; or more precisely, on the dirty racing clothes that the twenty-some years old boy was still wearing. On a shift, the expression of the old man in red hardened in a way that Dewey couldn’t help but shrink a bit.

After a long instant of quietness, the judge spoke again, “Throw him out of here, Sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom, I want him out of my town!” And to prove that his decision was final, “Case dismissed!”

“Yes!” Dewey was practically beaming. He expected this whole quadrille to be quick, but one single second? That’s what he called doing things in the Turbo Duck style.

He could hear the town’s citizens complaining behind him, but for the young racer they were as much white noise as Launchpad’s more pleased reaction, “By the Darkwing, looks like I’m really good at this lawyer stuff!”

Nothing in that place mattered anymore – he was free. And promptly after he stepped outside this building, he was going to hit the road and get to California, where he was supposed to be.

No one was going to stand on his way any longer.

“Sorry I’m late.” For a third time, the courtroom’s doors were opened, this time followed by a feminine, calmer voice.

Dewey turned his body to glare at whoever was delaying his moment of freedom- but all his annoyance flew down the drain as soon as his eyes took on the figure that had just arrived.

“Holy ebony…” Dewey found himself saying under his breath.

In fact, the soft ebony hair, descending in a long cascade, was the most prominent thing about that young woman. Which just made her more attractive when combined to her delicate face and that simple yet elegant spring dress she was wearing. A dress that, while not revealing by any means, still flattered her form very much, if he could say so.

Now the question was: what was a high-class, sane-looking babe like her doing in this carcass of a town?

“She gotta be from my attorney’s office,” It was the conclusion Dewey got to. Of course, somehow his agent had got a hold he was here, having “problems with the law”, and since his attorney really was away, they sent someone else. That made perfect sense. Just as the woman approached the front of the room, he activated his charm and called, “Hey, thanks for coming but we’re all set. He’s letting me go.”

“He’s letting you go?” She arched an eyebrow at the racer. It passed unnoticed by him how she stopped herself from sitting beside the other citizens when doing so.

“Yeah, you got lucky, your job’s pretty easy today,” Dewey laid back on the chair, his eyes taking their sweet time to admire her up and down. “All you need to do now is stand right there and let me look at ya.”

The woman’s expression was slowly morphing from confusion to a mix of incredulity and annoyance, but the young racer didn’t seem to notice because he kept talking.

“Listen, I’m gonna cut to the chase: you. Me. Dinner.” And now to the killer move - Dewey flashed her a half smile, with a click of the tongue and a wink, wrapped altogether by the finger guns.

She still said nothing, her face deadpanned. What was there to say, really, to such an arrogant asshole?

However, that was not how Dewey understood her silence, “Out of speech? I get it, I get that reaction a lot. But don’t worry, there’s no reason to be intimidated…” He gave her a side look. “Unless you want to be~”

“Oooo-kay,” The woman finally spoke - even if just to make him stop – with a forced smile. “I’m gonna go talk to the judge now.”

“Do what you gotta do, princess,” he sent another wink her way. Before letting her go, though, Dewey bended forward a bit, his voice losing smoothness as he warned only her, “Oh, but be careful. Folks around here don’t have their pins screwed all the way, if you know what I mean.”

As if to prove his point, he pointed with his head to Launchpad, who was right now trying to mimic Dewey’s finger guns move to his own reflection on the window.

The woman’s smile grew forced. So not only was the guy who wrecked their town an arrogant asshole, he also felt no remorse insulting the people who lived there? Oh, he had something else coming.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said back to the racer. Turning then to the redhaired man, her smile became more real. “Hey there, LP.”

‘Wait, what?’ Dewey blinked away in surprise. He didn’t know what shocked him more, the fact that his supposed attorney knew that guy, or the way Launchpad casually answered her back, with a cheerful, “G’morning, Emily!”

And as if that wasn’t confounding enough, the woman – Emily – quickly turned to the rest of the people in the room, “Hi folks.”

Just like launchpad, everyone returned the greeting amicably and casually, some also saying her name. As if she was a close friend who they saw every day.

Laying closer to Launchpad, Dewey questioned, “You know her?”

“Of course. She’s the town hotel’s manager… and my fiancée.”

“WHAT?!” Okay, lots of weird things were happening since last night, but that-?

Luckily, the universe hadn’t gone crazy, and Launchpad started crackling at his face, “Gotcha! Nah, she’s like a little sister to me. But I gave ya a pretty good scare, huh?”

While Dewey shot his “lawyer” an ugly stare, Emily reached the podium, looking up to the old, grumpy duck that was their town’s judge slash doctor. And he looked especially grumpy right now; shoot, she should’ve brought some baking goods with her. Well, her sweet smile would have to do.

“Good morning, Doc. How are you doing today?”

“Civils stay behind the fence unless they’re going to testify, Emily,” was Scrooge’s pragmatic answer, probably already sensing she wanted to ask for something. She really should’ve brought some sweets.

“I know that, I’m just passing by to say hi.” She feigned innocence.

The old man arched her a brow, “Very well, then: hi. Now go behind the fence with the others,” and before Emily could retort, “Actually, you may as well go home, since we’re done here.”

“Oh, come on, Doc,” Emily dropped her smile, a more serious and upset expression now, which caused Scrooge to haut before he stood up from his chair. “Are you really going to let him get away with it that easy? At least make him fix what he broke.”

“No way, I know his type. Car racer,” Scrooge pronounced the words like they were an insult. “Believe me, the sooner he gets out of here, the better.”

“But the town needs the road. And since he’s the reason it needs fixing, why not?”

“Emily, this case’s closed.” If he had his cane in hand, he’d knock it on the ground to make his point. “End of story.”

But by the way the girl simply looked at him, not seeming defeated at all, Scrooge feared it wouldn’t be the end of the story.

“Okay,” Emily started. “I didn’t want to do this, Doc., but you leave me no choice. Fellow citizens and friends!” Spinning on her wheels, she addresses the rest of the room loud and clearly, “You are all aware of our town’s proud history.”

“There she goes again,” Scrooge sighs to himself.

“Radiator Springs: a little piece of heaven built up with hard work and hospitality, by all of you, by our community,” Emily continued her speech passionately as she approached the audience. “It is our job and our pleasure to take care of the travelers who pass by our home while crossing the glorious Route 66.”

“Travelers? What travelers?!” raged Donald.

“Ignore him,” Fethry cut his cousin short, allowing the dark-haired girl to continue.

“But how, I ask, are we to care for those travelers if there is no road for them to drive on? Panchito, José,” Emily addresses the two men and partners sitting on the front roll. “What do you sell in your store?”

“Fashionable haircuts!” exclaimed Panchito, showing off a scissor from his pocket.

“You sure do,” Emily smiled at the answer, even if it wasn’t the one she was looking for. “But what’s your main business, what do you have the most at your store?”

“Tires,” this time it was José who answered with pride.

“And if no one can get to you guys?”

“We won’t sell any… tire…” the parrot’s smug smile fell at that realization, and it didn’t really help when Panchito hugged him in desperation, adding, “We’re gonna lose everything!”

“Mary!” Emily now turned to a woman in her early 60s, whose gray hair had only traits of the light blonde it one day possessed. “What do you sell at your store?”

“I sell breakfast, lunch, dinner, and gas. But especially gas.”

From another part of the room, Launchpad burst into laughs alongside Mary’s own husband, and the two women give them an annoyed look. All of that because the word “gas” had been said? Seriously?

“Okay boys, stay with me, please,” Emily asks them, before talking to Mary again. “And what happens if no one can come to your station for any of those things?”

“I’ll go out of business and… we’ll have to leave town,” the older woman admitted with sadness, looking at her husband in distress. The man was definitely not laughing anymore.

“And what will happen to all of us if Mary has to leave town and closes her business?”

That seemed the right thing to ask, because immediately hurried exclamations started being shared among the town folks.

“We’re all gonna starve!” screamed Launchpad.

“I mean,” Donald started. “Others here know how to cook, but we'd be stuck here forever without being able to fill our cars’ tanks.”

“And no more Mary's pancakes!” The redhead was pulling his own hair at the idea.

“So,” Emily’s voice was strong enough to gather everyone’s attention back on her. “Don’t you think the person responsible should fix our road?”

“The only person strong enough to fix that road is Big Al!” commented the oldest person in that place, a senior woman who couldn’t be less than 80.

“Elvira, Big Al died fifteen years ago,” Mary’s husband, Jamie, explained to her, causing Elvira to look at him like he was the one going senile. “Then why are you bringin’ him up?”

“Oh, he can do it.” For the first time since her speech started, Emily’s eyes fell on Dewey. There was no warmth in those green eyes for him, just a fire to defend her home and her friends. “You all saw his car. That thing has horsepower more than enough to get the job done.”

Dewey instantly felt his blood freezing. What had his car, his precious baby, to do with anything?!

“So, what do we want him to do?!”

“FIX OUR ROAD!” All the citizens echoed together.

“Yes! Because we are a town worth fixing!”

While the others cheered in excited agreement, Emily turned back to Scrooge at his podium, a victorious smile in her face as she simply shrugged. Scrooge released a heavy sight before screaming for order in the courtroom. Once everyone was quiet again, he paused his eyes on Dewey once more before passing them across each one of his friends.

“It seems…” the old man started, hating himself in his resignation. “That my mind has been changed for me.”

The town folks cheered once again.

“No!” Meanwhile, Dewey was groaning. If looks could kill, the glare he shot at Emily would’ve blown the woman up, especially when she looked back with that coy smile. “I am so not taking you to dinner anymore.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Goggles,” the nickname made his cheeks grow red, Dewey didn’t know if with anger or humiliation for her making fun of his racing goggles. “You can take Bessie instead.”

“Oh boy, you’re gonna work with Bessie!” Launchpad suddenly exclaimed, nudging the racer with his elbow. “I’d give away half a leg to be in your place.”

And against his best judgement, because Dewey knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, he asked anyways, “Who is Bessie?”

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