Uncle $crooge McDuck

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DONALD DUCK'S FIX-IT SHOP

by: Carl Barks and Ted Anthony Roberts

 

This story is an elaboration on the original comic story written and drawn by Carl Barks. To see more stories by Ted Anthony Roberts, please click HERE. As always, we love hearing people's response to the stories, so please leave us a comment on our GUESTBOOK.

 

Chapter 1

A New Shop in Duckburg

It was early in the morning when all around Duckburg could be heard the sound of a pounding hammer. A little too early for some citizens, as they would wrap their head tighter in their pillows in an attempt to muffle out the sound, and tried their hardest to go back to sleep. But others, brave enough to sacrifice a little sleep, would slowly work their way toward their windows to see the reason for this very early ruckus. And when their tired, weary eyes finally focused in, their curiosity was soon satisfied . . . it was Donald Duck!

 

 

With a heavy hand, Donald slammed some nails as deep as he could into a sign he was attempting to hang at the front of a small shack. A sign that read: “Donald Duck’s Fix-It Shop.” Steadily balancing himself on the top of a large step ladder, he would position the big sign as best he could before driving in the next nail.

"So, you're going into business for yourself, unca Donald?" three voices said behind him.

Without the effort of even turning around, Donald replied: "Yes! It's about time somebody started a 'fix-it' shop around here." He said this while finally driving in the last nail.

Spinning around, and showing how agile he still was, he jumped off the top of the step ladder - that was about five feet tall - and landed on the ground in front of his three nephews: Huey, Duey and Luey.

As Donald started walking into the shack, which he, with the help of his sign, had just turned into a shop, he continued to answer his nephews: "There are thousands of bicycles, lawn mowers, hair clippers, floor lamps, and dog collars that need fixing. Not to mention pots, pans, dishes, coffee grinders, waffle irons, tennis rackets, roller skates, fishhooks . . . ."

"Unca Donald!" one of the boy's yelled, interrupting his long list. Then all three, of a mind, and in complete amazement, said to him at once, "When did you learn how to fix things?"

Nonchalantly, Donald walked over to his work table, and proudly, if not majestically, held up a large red book. "Yesterday!" he simply said, answering the boy's question. "I got this book called 'Feebrunkle's Fix-It Guide.' "

With beaks wide open, for they were still amazed, the boys continue to question their uncle, "You think that you can fix things just by following the instructions in that book?"

And, just as proud and majestic, his head still held high, and his eyes closed, he said: "Of course." as if there were no task out of his reach.

Excitedly, the boys quickly held up their sci-fi toys to him, “Could you fix space rockets and super-ray guns?” they anxiously asked.

The proud look that Donald had been holding for the past moment suddenly changed into a disgusted grimace. “Don’t get technical!” he said, impatiently. Then with a sudden burst of his lungs, he bellowed out to the nephews: “Go out and rustle up some customers! Bring something into this shop to be fixed!”

“Yes-sir-ee!” said the boys, as they ran out just as fast as they could.

Watching them quickly grab their little pull-wagon and head off in the direction of some homes and businesses, Donald began to wonder if it were too early to disturb folks just yet with ‘fix-it’ problems. Walking back into his shop, he took a look at the clock that hung on his wall.

“Half past seven.” he said, thinking. Then suddenly, he smiled with satisfaction: “Nope! Not too early. My uncle Scrooge always says that it’s the early duck that gets the dough!” Still smiling, he walked over to his work-table. Hanging just above it was a small cabinet, which he opened up. Situated inside, and neatly hung, was a small assortment of tools. “I’ve got these tools that Grandma Duck gave me for Christmas,” he said to himself, while smiling, “and I’m aching to use them.”

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Is There Really Anything to Fix?

Squeaky wheels could be heard coming toward the shop from a short distance away. If one were to look out the door of Donald’s Fix-It Shop, one could see the reason for this noise. Of course, it was the boys returning to their Uncle Donald with a small load of items to be fixed! The squeaky wheels that were heard was from the un-oiled wheels on the boys’ red pull-wagon, which they had named 'Express.'

 

 

 

 

When the shop was in sight, the boys hurriedly quickened their pace. They were grinning from ear to ear - happy to assist their uncle Donald! And before they even reached the entrance, they began to yell: “Unca Donald, unca Donald!”

 

 

 

 

Donald quickly ran to the door to see the reason for this yelling. And in his amazement he spied the items on top of the pull-wagon - things to be fixed! The grin that he had - had turned into a super-grin; and he could hardly reframe from his beak dropping open at this wonderful sight!

“Oh, boy!” Donald exclaimed.

“You’re right, unca Donald.” one of the boys told him, as they approached the shop. “There’s just oodles of stuff waiting around to be fixed!”

Donald stepped aside to let the boys and their pull-wagon through, drooling the entire time over the items that were placed inside. He was so excited, that he quickly ran over to his work table to grab a hammer - ready to fix anything!

“What do you have, boys?” Donald anxiously asked, as he approached them.

They pulled out the first item, and placed it onto the floor. It was an old talking machine, equipped with a large cylinder speaker-phone on top, from which the noise normally could be heard from. Donald looked at it with a worried eye, for his excitement began to die down a little.

“This old talking machine belongs to the cranky old lady on the corner.” the boys told him.

“Yeah?” Donald asked. “And what else is wrong with it?

Ignoring, or perhaps not understanding the joke, the boys continued: “She wants it converted to play the new-style crooner records.”

Floored with the mere thought, Donald slapped himself in the face in unbelief!

Acting as if the talking machine was never even presented to him, Donald simply walked over to the pull-wagon, leaned over near it, and said: “What else you got here?”

Eager to please, one of the boys whipped out a completely flat trumpet from the box!

With an even more worried look, Donald questioned the nephew who took the item out, with a mere look.

“A trumpet.” the boy announced. Then with the most innocent of expressions, he asked his uncle Donald: “Could you fix it like it was before the steam roller ran over it?”

Donald took the item from him to examine it more closely.

The nephews watched him with a worried look, knowing that the items that they brought was not pleasing their uncle.

“Good night!” was the expression that finally escaped their uncle. His examination finally ceased from off the trumpet and then rested upon his nephews. “Couldn’t you find anything that’s possible?”

With slight disappointment in his voice, one of the boys said: “But you said that you could fix anything.”

“So,” says another, whipping out the next item in the wagon, “here’s Mrs. Beaver’s power mixer!”

With only one look at the item, Donald’s saddened look on his face went to total exasperation! “Good grief!” Donald yelled, “What’s in the mixing bowl?”

“Her little boy was mixing concrete,” one of the boys replied, “and it hardened!”

There was a certain glare that now started to spark in Donald’s eyes. The nephews knew it very well. It was a look that they did not like, for they knew that it was a prelude to his explosive anger that was about to erupt! But before he even had a chance to, the items were, with lightning speed, placed back into the wagon, and quickly taken out the door - for the nephews were pulling it with all their might!

Knowing that they were safely out of their uncle’s way, they yelled back to the shop: “Well, you said that you wanted us to rustle up some work!”

 

 

Chapter 3

Finally, Something to Fix

A little later that day, the boys began their journey back to their uncle’s ‘fix-it’ shop. However, they were still very nervous about their uncle’s reaction to the items that they brought him the first time around, and so their pace was not as hurried this time, but was rather slow.

“Men!” Duey said to the other two. “Do you think that unca Donald is still mad at us?

“How should we know?” asked Huey, raising his shoulders up with a questioning gesture.

“Yeah,” added Luey, “but he sure was starting to get mad. It’s a good thing that we left when we did.”

“Hey!” interrupted Duey, “There’s the shop now.” At this, all three came to a complete stop.

“So,” asked Luey, after a moment of silence, “why are we stopping?”

“Unca Donald may hear our squeaky wheels,” answered Huey, “and I don’t want to see him just yet before I know if he is still angry with us or not.”

Then with a determined look on his face, Duey announced: “Then, there is just one thing to do, men!”

“What’s that?” asked the other two.

“One of us just has to sneak to the back of the shop and bring the oil can back so we can sneak up with a non-squeaky wagon!” said Duey.

“Sounds good.” agreed Huey. But then in almost an undertone, said: “But which one of us is brave enough to do it?”

“Of course,” continued Duey, “We’ll settle this like Junior Woodchucks!”

“Rock, paper and scissors it is, then.” finished Luey.

“Scissors!” said Duey.

“Scissors!” said Luey.

“Paper.” whispered Huey.

“Be brave, Woodchuck Huey.” said Duey, trying to console his brother. “Let’s give him the salute, Luey.” At this, the two youngsters saluted their fellow Junior Woodchuck.

Huey then ran to the back of the shop to grab the oil can. He found it on top of a barrel, so he climbed on top. As he held the can triumphantly in his hand, he began to notice that he was completely framed by a window in the back of the shop that he didn’t notice on his climb onto the top of the barrel. Stricken by sudden fear, he quickly looked through the glass to see if he had been spotted. Fortunately, his uncle was busy with sweeping the floor, and did not even notice his nephew at the window. At this opportunity, Huey, quickly jumped down, with the oil can in his hand, and ran back over to his brothers.

“Woodchuck Huey, reporting in!” he exclaimed in relief.

“Good job, Woodchuck Huey!” said the other two.

“And I almost got caught.”

“How?” asked the other two, worried.

“The oil can was on top of a barrel in the back, and the barrel was right at a window.”

“You saw unca Donald?” asked Luey.

“For a slight second.” he replied.

“Was he still angry?” again asked Luey.

There was a blank look on Huey’s face.

“Well?” anxiously asked the other two at the same time.

“I forgot to notice.”

At this the other two slapped themselves in the face in non-belief.

“That was the whole purpose for the oil can,” said Duey, “so that we could sneak up on unca Donald to see if he were still mad, and to see if we could go in just yet. But then again,” Duey said on an afterthought, “You could have just went to the door and take a peek at unca Donald inside without having to retrieve the oil can in the first place.”

“Now you tell me!” said Huey, exasperated.

After the wheels are oiled, Duey announced: “Forward, men!”

At the entrance, they all spied inside to see Donald’s face. His anger seemed to have all disappeared, and he was whistling, while sweeping the shop floor.

“Now’s our chance.” said Luey.

At this, they came running in: “Unca Donald, unca Donald!”

Donald spun around, and ran over to the pull-wagon. “More items?” he asked, with a smile on his beak. Looking inside, he said: “Ah! You boys found some nice, workable jobs this time!”

The boys looked at each other in relief.

Donald proceeded to take the items out of the wagon. “An electric iron that won’t get hot;” said Donald, naming each item; “a meat chopper that needs oiling; and a glass menagerie with some legs broken off the glass animals inside.” With each item announced, Donald’s grin began to widen even more and more.

As Donald set the glass menagerie, complete with glass animals inside, onto his work table, he turned to the boys and announced: “Now, you kids glue the legs back on these beasts while I tackle the other jobs!”

The weight of the room seemed to have fallen onto the chests of the boys as they mechanically walked towards the work-table. And with each step they took toward the table’s bench to sit down, they grew more and more angry. Finally, as they sat down, and started gluing the legs back onto the glass animals, they began to speak their mind: “We coulda guessed there was a catch in this racket someplace!”

Of course, Uncle Donald could not hear the complaints, for he was far too busy with his own projects. His grand project at the moment, however, was thinking. “Now where’s that oil can to oil the meat chopper with?” he asked out loud.

Suddenly, the boys realized what he said, and Duey quickly ran over to the pull-wagon and pulled out the oil can for his uncle. Duey then went back to the work-table.

Confusingly, Donald looked at his oil can that had been in their wagon. And even though he wondered why it was in there, he walked away from the wagon merely saying: “I’m not even going to ask.”

 

 

Chapter 4

Great Ideas That Go Awry

Taking the oil can over near the meat chopper, Donald oils the chopper to his satisfaction. “Ah!” he said. “The chopper’s oiled.” He then places the meat chopper right beside the work-table, near to where the boys were sitting, because that was where the plug-in was at, so he could turn the machine on. “I’ll let it run awhile to limber up the bearings.” he said to himself.

Meanwhile, he walked over to get the iron. He picked it up and walked to the other end of the work-table, so he wouldn't disturb his nephews, who were hard at work gluing the animal’s legs on.

Taking a hammer and a large railroad spike, he hammered the spike into the side of the iron to open its insides up. “Now to see what ails this electric iron.” he said, as the iron’s side gives way and comes open. Slowly he took out all the insides, and carefully laid them onto the work-table.

Picking up his handy “do-it-yourself” book, he read the following:

“Contact ‘A’ may be arcing through electrode ‘K’ to oxidize ‘B!’ Try relay ‘J’ through by-pass ‘X’ to coil ‘D.’”

Setting the book back down on the work-table, he confidently picks up his flat-head screwdriver and places its flat head on what he thought looked reasonable. “This thing here looks like it might be an electrode!” he said, while he worked his screwdriver around it. Then he moved the screwdriver over a bit more to the left inside the mass of wires and screws. “And I bet,” he continued, “that red wire is what they call a coil.”

After a few more adjustments, he put everything back inside the iron where he believed that they should go. He clasps it back together, and, with the best of confidence, began to plug it into the wall-plug that was set just above the work-table.

“How’s that for speed, boys?” he said to his nephews. “I’ve got these two jobs finished already!”

He then turned the iron on to see if it would get hot - and hot it did get!

 

 

 

 

“So, that iron wouldn’t get hot, eh?” he said, laughingly, to the boys.

At this moment, the table beneath the iron began to sizzle - and sizzle rather loudly!

 

 

 

 

“It’s getting too hot.” Donald replied, as he began to reach out his hand to it. “I’ll just have to adjust the turn screw.”

As he reached for the temperature adjustment, his fingers barely had time to touch the screw when a great surge of heat burnt the tips of his fingers. The pain was so sudden and severe that he yelled out in the loudest manner possible as he held that hand with the other one.

The noise of his yelling startled the boys, who jumped suddenly to their feet!

“Pull the cord, unca Donald!” They said. “You’ll blow a fuse.”

By that time, tremendous amounts of black smoke began to rise from the work-table - so much so, that visibility did become an impossibility.

“But I can’t find the cord!” said Donald, as he rubbed his eyes because of the thick smoke. “I can’t see anything in this smoke!”

Suddenly, a loud noise was heard: “Ploonk!”

 

 

 

 

“What dropped, unca Donald?” asked the nephews, with a worried expression on their faces.

At this time, a clearing in the smoke was made possible, and Donald could see the reason for the noise - it was the iron! It had burnt clean through the work-table, and hit the floor with a thud!

“The Iron!” Donald yelled. “It burned through the wooden table, and dropped on the cement floor!”

Following the iron with his eyes, Donald continued his examination of its action to the boys: “And it’s melting and running across the floor like hot grease!”

Not only that, but it was also working its way to the other end of the table where the boys had been sitting. It got real close to the leg of the work-table.

“Its set the table legs afire!” yelled one of the boys.

Not only so, but as the table leg burned, it began to disintegrate. The glass animals that were sitting on the table began to roll off the table and directly into the meat chopper that was sitting on the floor by the table. And we must remember that Donald left the chopper running, so as the animals were dropped in, they were being chopped out!

 

 

 

 

“What happened?” Donald asked, with his hand over his eyes. “I’m afraid to look!”

As one of the boys held the glass dust of the animals in his hands, he informed his uncle of what happened: “Well, you’ve just put Mrs. Welty’s Glass menagerie through Butcher McCann’s meat chopper.”

And, as though the matter was a simple one, Donald merely unplugged the iron, let it cool down, grabbed the broom, and swept the grounded glass and iron out of the shop’s door; and concluded with this statement: “Well, a guy must expect some setbacks in any business!”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

From Awry to Downright Ridiculous

Looking into the pull-wagon once again, Donald asked the boys, “What else did you bring in to be fixed?” And before the boys had a chance to answer, Donald pulled an item out himself: “A vacuum cleaner.” he said.

“Yes,” said one of the boys, “It belongs to Daisy. She says its got weak suction.”

“Weak suction, eh?” asked Donald. “Much like the workers who try to get their pay out of Uncle Scrooge. And since this belongs to Daisy, that means I’ve got to do an extra good job on it!” And as he walked over toward his handy book, he replied: “Let’s see what ‘Feebrunkle’s Fix-It Guide’ has to say about vacuum cleaners.”

After a moment of reading, Donald’s head began to swim: “Remove ‘A’ at point where ‘C’ joins ‘E.’ Bend radius ‘B’ to touch ‘D’ at point ‘P.’ Push ‘K’ through ‘J’ and join ‘X’ to ‘A.’ This will force ‘G’ to move ‘C’ and ‘E’ and ‘B’ while ‘P’ works ‘O,’ and ‘Z’ can’t go.”

Not wanting to seem threatened in front of his nephews, Donald, who acted with the greatest of confidence, marched over to the vacuum with a crow bar. And as he pried his way into it, he announced loudly: “As usual, Feebrunkle is 100% right!”

When the top was completely pried open, he began to shake all the components out onto the floor. Nuts and bolts flew everywhere! “Now, all I have to do is find which parts are A’s and which are B’s.”

Setting the vacuum against the wall, Donald got onto his knees to sort through the mechanical mess. He picked up a part that appeared to be some sort of fan. “I bet this fan is the gizmo that was messing up the works!” he said, with assurance.

One of the nephews intervened with Donald’s observance: “Daisy thought that the filter on the dust tank was clogged, unca Donald.”

With that announcement, Donald examined the fan even closer. “No doubt bending these blades like this will unclog the filter and fix everything.” He began to curve each blade on the small fan to his satisfaction. Suddenly, he sprung to his feet and ran the boys out the door, while he said: “Well, don’t stand around watching me - go find another load of things to be fixed!”

And so, later on:

 

“I’ve fixed it!” he yelled, being happy with his work that he did on Daisy’s vacuum. In fact, the vacuum may have been working too well. “It’s sucking dirt from ten feet away!” he said, while he watched as the dust particles flew in.

Upon a sudden thought, he rushed madly out the door, with the vacuum upon his shoulder. “I’ll deliver this job myself, just so I can show Daisy what a hot-shot I am!”

Sure enough, as he worked his way into Daisy’s home, he headed straight over to the nearest plug-in. “Behold, mamselle!” he said, while plugging it in. “Your vacuum cleaner will now pick up anything - even bits of gossip!”

Daisy, wide-eyed, watched with anticipation.

As soon as it was turned on, she exclaimed: “It sounds like a rock crusher!”

As he held the vacuum cleaner still, he announced - loud enough for Daisy to hear: “Well, no wonder, it’s sucking dirt from clear across the room!”

Daisy took a look behind him, for there was something shooting out the back end of the vacuum. “And what it is sucking, it is spitting out the back pipe!” Looking back at Donald, she asked very worriedly: “Donald, where is that lint coming from?”

Donald’s head spun quickly around to see for himself. Sure enough, something was spitting out the back end of the vacuum. Turning his attention back to the front of it, he picked it up from off the carpet, only to find a large gash in the middle of it - which did expose the wooden floor beneath!

“It’s my carpet!” Daisy yelled, in complete exasperation, while pointing to the spot in question. “It sucked a hole through my carpet!”

“I - I.” Donald stammered. “I shouldn’t have left it in one place so long!” At this, he began to move the vacuum across the floor. And as it moved, it left a trail of exposed wooden floor, as it ripped up the carpet along the way, and shot it out the back-pipe of the vacuum!

At the sight of this, Daisy began to scream!

“Turn it off, turn it off!” she yelled over to him. But it was too late: the vacuum, becoming increasingly stronger the longer it was on, had started pulling Donald along with it, helplessly!

“It won’t turn off!” He yelled back to her, as he hung on with dear life. “It’s running away like a power lawn mower!”

Suddenly, as it ran out of floor, the vacuum began to climb the wall - taking Donald with it! As it nearly reached the ceiling, Donald turned back his head toward Daisy, and said: “Pull the plug, Daisy! Pull the plug!”

Then it began to fly across the ceiling, sucking the paint up as it went. By the time he was in the middle of the room, Daisy was finally able to reach the plug. Vacuum and Donald suddenly took a dive downwards! He and the vacuum landed directly in the middle of a table; upon contact, he broke the dishes that were on it!

As everything was now quiet, there was a moment of utter silence. Both Ducks were stunned at what had just happened. Daisy was standing near the plug, wide-eyed, beak open, and not able to say a word, and Donald was sitting on top of the new mess he had just made, with a broken table, and glassware beneath him. Finally, Donald broke the silence.

“Did something break?” He asked, with the most innocent look in the world upon his face.

“Yes,” Daisy said, almost dizzy. “My ancient Ming Tea Set that has been priceless for two thousand years!” She then pulled out her hanky to have a good cry.

Donald, perhaps not fully realizing the value of the tea set, merely remarked: “That’s too bad.”

Getting up and dusting himself off, he picked up the vacuum and told her, “But I wouldn’t give up on this vacuum if I were you.” He then attached a hose to it, while he said: “That tremendous suction should be good for something - like dragging the moths out of your closet.”

And before Daisy even had a chance to stop him, the vacuum was turned back on, and the hose was placed inside her closet, the door being nearly closed. “Watch this.” He said, with confidence, as it sucked the inside of her closet.

Standing near the back of the vacuum cleaner, Daisy began to witness all kinds of small items being shot through the back pipe!

“Stop it! Stop it!” She yelled. “You’re sucking out more than moths!”

He quickly ran over to turn off the monstrous machine while she ran over to her closet. When the door was opened fully, she saw nothing but a tremendous mess of fur and buttons all over the closet floor. Picking up her two favorite clothing items, she yelled at Donald at the top of her lungs: “Every button off my clothes! Every hair off my silver fox coat!”

She then slammed the items to the floor, and began to chase him, with fire in her eyes!

Quickly realizing that this is his que to get out - he grabbed her vacuum with one hand and held on to his hat with the other, and began to beat a retreat!

As she chased him out the door, she said: “You monster! You meddler! Take that thing back and fix it, or I’ll sue you!”

 

 

Chapter 6

From Ridiculous to the Final Straw

Back at his shop, Donald tinkered with the vacuum’s insides once again. He reached directly for the fan, for he believed that it was that one item in the vacuum that was giving him all his troubles. Thinking, perhaps, if he just knock every other blade off the fan completely, it would give him just the right amount of suction power to please Daisy. So he did so.

“I’ve knocked half the blades off that fan." he said. "It should suck only half as hard now.”

With this new confidence, he placed all the parts carefully back into the vacuum, plugged it into the wall, and turned it back on. Yet, instead of sucking at only half its former strength, it then sucked twice as hard: “Whup!” He yelled. “It is sucking harder than ever now.”

He made this claim, seeing that the nails in the boards of his shop were starting to come loose! In fact, one entire board was bulging inwards toward the vacuum, the nails being halfway out by that time.

Standing in amazement at the vacuums strength, he watched as the nails began to actually come out of the board and into the vacuum! “Wow!” He exclaimed. “It is sucking the nails right out of the walls!”

Just then, the back of the vacuum comes near his body, and the air shooting from it is so strong, that it knocks him against the wall at the other end of the shop. “Brother! Feel that thing blow!”

By then, the nails had made their way through the vacuum, and were then, like missiles, coming straight toward him - and nailed him completely against the wall!

“Nailed to the wall like a blasted poster!” He proclaimed. “While that thing runs wild all over the place!” And, sure enough, the vacuum did just that!

Later on, the boys were returning with a fresh load of fixable items - excited that they were able to find so many good things for their uncle to do.

“I bet unca Donald will jump for joy when he sees what we’ve got!” said Huey to the other two.

“You’re right, Huey. I agree with you!” replied Luey.

“Or will he?” Suddenly added Duey, as he saw a spectacle that caused all of them to stop dead in their tracks! It was uncle Donald, marching across their path, not even noticing the boys standing there. But the boys did notice him, with his half torn cloths, and a fiery red look in his eyes, and what seemed to be steam coming from out of his ears!

As he completely left their presence, the boys looked at each other in confusion, and then ran over to where the shop was. To their utter surprise, they found, instead of a shop, nothing more than a pile of broken up boards, and a stream of smoke coming from the centermost part of the heap! Nailed to one of the boards was the sign: “Donald Duck’s Fix-It Shop.” And below this sign, was another, more freshly painted sign, that read: “If you can fix it, you can have it! Signed D.D.”

THE END

DONALD DUCK'S FIX-IT SHOP

by: Carl Barks and Ted Anthony Roberts

 

This story is an elaboration on the original comic story written and drawn by Carl Barks. To see more stories by Ted Anthony Roberts, please click HERE. As always, we love hearing people's response to the stories, so please leave us a comment on our GUESTBOOK.

 

Chapter 1

A New Shop in Duckburg

It was early in the morning when all around Duckburg could be heard the sound of a pounding hammer. A little too early for some citizens, as they would wrap their head tighter in their pillows in an attempt to muffle out the sound, and tried their hardest to go back to sleep. But others, brave enough to sacrifice a little sleep, would slowly work their way toward their windows to see the reason for this very early ruckus. And when their tired, weary eyes finally focused in, their curiosity was soon satisfied . . . it was Donald Duck!

 

 

 

 

With a heavy hand, Donald slammed some nails as deep as he could into a sign he was attempting to hang at the front of a small shack. A sign that read: “Donald Duck’s Fix-It Shop.” Steadily balancing himself on the top of a large step ladder, he would position the big sign as best he could before driving in the next nail.

"So, you're going into business for yourself, unca Donald?" three voices said behind him.

Without the effort of even turning around, Donald replied: "Yes! It's about time somebody started a 'fix-it' shop around here." He said this while finally driving in the last nail.

Spinning around, and showing how agile he still was, he jumped off the top of the step ladder - that was about five feet tall - and landed on the ground in front of his three nephews: Huey, Duey and Luey.

As Donald started walking into the shack, which he, with the help of his sign, had just turned into a shop, he continued to answer his nephews: "There are thousands of bicycles, lawn mowers, hair clippers, floor lamps, and dog collars that need fixing. Not to mention pots, pans, dishes, coffee grinders, waffle irons, tennis rackets, roller skates, fishhooks . . . ."

"Unca Donald!" one of the boy's yelled, interrupting his long list. Then all three, of a mind, and in complete amazement, said to him at once, "When did you learn how to fix things?"

Nonchalantly, Donald walked over to his work table, and proudly, if not majestically, held up a large red book. "Yesterday!" he simply said, answering the boy's question. "I got this book called 'Feebrunkle's Fix-It Guide.' "

With beaks wide open, for they were still amazed, the boys continue to question their uncle, "You think that you can fix things just by following the instructions in that book?"

And, just as proud and majestic, his head still held high, and his eyes closed, he said: "Of course." as if there were no task out of his reach.

Excitedly, the boys quickly held up their sci-fi toys to him, “Could you fix space rockets and super-ray guns?” they anxiously asked.

The proud look that Donald had been holding for the past moment suddenly changed into a disgusted grimace. “Don’t get technical!” he said, impatiently. Then with a sudden burst of his lungs, he bellowed out to the nephews: “Go out and rustle up some customers! Bring something into this shop to be fixed!”

“Yes-sir-ee!” said the boys, as they ran out just as fast as they could.

Watching them quickly grab their little pull-wagon and head off in the direction of some homes and businesses, Donald began to wonder if it were too early to disturb folks just yet with ‘fix-it’ problems. Walking back into his shop, he took a look at the clock that hung on his wall.

“Half past seven.” he said, thinking. Then suddenly, he smiled with satisfaction: “Nope! Not too early. My uncle Scrooge always says that it’s the early duck that gets the dough!” Still smiling, he walked over to his work-table. Hanging just above it was a small cabinet, which he opened up. Situated inside, and neatly hung, was a small assortment of tools. “I’ve got these tools that Grandma Duck gave me for Christmas,” he said to himself, while smiling, “and I’m aching to use them.”

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Is There Really Anything to Fix?

Squeaky wheels could be heard coming toward the shop from a short distance away. If one were to look out the door of Donald’s Fix-It Shop, one could see the reason for this noise. Of course, it was the boys returning to their Uncle Donald with a small load of items to be fixed! The squeaky wheels that were heard was from the un-oiled wheels on the boys’ red pull-wagon, which they had named 'Express.'

 

 

 

 

When the shop was in sight, the boys hurriedly quickened their pace. They were grinning from ear to ear - happy to assist their uncle Donald! And before they even reached the entrance, they began to yell: “Unca Donald, unca Donald!”

 

 

 

 

Donald quickly ran to the door to see the reason for this yelling. And in his amazement he spied the items on top of the pull-wagon - things to be fixed! The grin that he had - had turned into a super-grin; and he could hardly reframe from his beak dropping open at this wonderful sight!

“Oh, boy!” Donald exclaimed.

“You’re right, unca Donald.” one of the boys told him, as they approached the shop. “There’s just oodles of stuff waiting around to be fixed!”

Donald stepped aside to let the boys and their pull-wagon through, drooling the entire time over the items that were placed inside. He was so excited, that he quickly ran over to his work table to grab a hammer - ready to fix anything!

“What do you have, boys?” Donald anxiously asked, as he approached them.

They pulled out the first item, and placed it onto the floor. It was an old talking machine, equipped with a large cylinder speaker-phone on top, from which the noise normally could be heard from. Donald looked at it with a worried eye, for his excitement began to die down a little.

“This old talking machine belongs to the cranky old lady on the corner.” the boys told him.

“Yeah?” Donald asked. “And what else is wrong with it?

Ignoring, or perhaps not understanding the joke, the boys continued: “She wants it converted to play the new-style crooner records.”

Floored with the mere thought, Donald slapped himself in the face in unbelief!

Acting as if the talking machine was never even presented to him, Donald simply walked over to the pull-wagon, leaned over near it, and said: “What else you got here?”

Eager to please, one of the boys whipped out a completely flat trumpet from the box!

With an even more worried look, Donald questioned the nephew who took the item out, with a mere look.

“A trumpet.” the boy announced. Then with the most innocent of expressions, he asked his uncle Donald: “Could you fix it like it was before the steam roller ran over it?”

Donald took the item from him to examine it more closely.

The nephews watched him with a worried look, knowing that the items that they brought was not pleasing their uncle.

“Good night!” was the expression that finally escaped their uncle. His examination finally ceased from off the trumpet and then rested upon his nephews. “Couldn’t you find anything that’s possible?”

With slight disappointment in his voice, one of the boys said: “But you said that you could fix anything.”

“So,” says another, whipping out the next item in the wagon, “here’s Mrs. Beaver’s power mixer!”

With only one look at the item, Donald’s saddened look on his face went to total exasperation! “Good grief!” Donald yelled, “What’s in the mixing bowl?”

“Her little boy was mixing concrete,” one of the boys replied, “and it hardened!”

There was a certain glare that now started to spark in Donald’s eyes. The nephews knew it very well. It was a look that they did not like, for they knew that it was a prelude to his explosive anger that was about to erupt! But before he even had a chance to, the items were, with lightning speed, placed back into the wagon, and quickly taken out the door - for the nephews were pulling it with all their might!

Knowing that they were safely out of their uncle’s way, they yelled back to the shop: “Well, you said that you wanted us to rustle up some work!”

 

 

Chapter 3

Finally, Something to Fix

A little later that day, the boys began their journey back to their uncle’s ‘fix-it’ shop. However, they were still very nervous about their uncle’s reaction to the items that they brought him the first time around, and so their pace was not as hurried this time, but was rather slow.

“Men!” Duey said to the other two. “Do you think that unca Donald is still mad at us?

“How should we know?” asked Huey, raising his shoulders up with a questioning gesture.

“Yeah,” added Luey, “but he sure was starting to get mad. It’s a good thing that we left when we did.”

“Hey!” interrupted Duey, “There’s the shop now.” At this, all three came to a complete stop.

“So,” asked Luey, after a moment of silence, “why are we stopping?”

“Unca Donald may hear our squeaky wheels,” answered Huey, “and I don’t want to see him just yet before I know if he is still angry with us or not.”

Then with a determined look on his face, Duey announced: “Then, there is just one thing to do, men!”

“What’s that?” asked the other two.

“One of us just has to sneak to the back of the shop and bring the oil can back so we can sneak up with a non-squeaky wagon!” said Duey.

“Sounds good.” agreed Huey. But then in almost an undertone, said: “But which one of us is brave enough to do it?”

“Of course,” continued Duey, “We’ll settle this like Junior Woodchucks!”

“Rock, paper and scissors it is, then.” finished Luey.

“Scissors!” said Duey.

“Scissors!” said Luey.

“Paper.” whispered Huey.

“Be brave, Woodchuck Huey.” said Duey, trying to console his brother. “Let’s give him the salute, Luey.” At this, the two youngsters saluted their fellow Junior Woodchuck.

Huey then ran to the back of the shop to grab the oil can. He found it on top of a barrel, so he climbed on top. As he held the can triumphantly in his hand, he began to notice that he was completely framed by a window in the back of the shop that he didn’t notice on his climb onto the top of the barrel. Stricken by sudden fear, he quickly looked through the glass to see if he had been spotted. Fortunately, his uncle was busy with sweeping the floor, and did not even notice his nephew at the window. At this opportunity, Huey, quickly jumped down, with the oil can in his hand, and ran back over to his brothers.

“Woodchuck Huey, reporting in!” he exclaimed in relief.

“Good job, Woodchuck Huey!” said the other two.

“And I almost got caught.”

“How?” asked the other two, worried.

“The oil can was on top of a barrel in the back, and the barrel was right at a window.”

“You saw unca Donald?” asked Luey.

“For a slight second.” he replied.

“Was he still angry?” again asked Luey.

There was a blank look on Huey’s face.

“Well?” anxiously asked the other two at the same time.

“I forgot to notice.”

At this the other two slapped themselves in the face in non-belief.

“That was the whole purpose for the oil can,” said Duey, “so that we could sneak up on unca Donald to see if he were still mad, and to see if we could go in just yet. But then again,” Duey said on an afterthought, “You could have just went to the door and take a peek at unca Donald inside without having to retrieve the oil can in the first place.”

“Now you tell me!” said Huey, exasperated.

After the wheels are oiled, Duey announced: “Forward, men!”

At the entrance, they all spied inside to see Donald’s face. His anger seemed to have all disappeared, and he was whistling, while sweeping the shop floor.

“Now’s our chance.” said Luey.

At this, they came running in: “Unca Donald, unca Donald!”

Donald spun around, and ran over to the pull-wagon. “More items?” he asked, with a smile on his beak. Looking inside, he said: “Ah! You boys found some nice, workable jobs this time!”

The boys looked at each other in relief.

Donald proceeded to take the items out of the wagon. “An electric iron that won’t get hot;” said Donald, naming each item; “a meat chopper that needs oiling; and a glass menagerie with some legs broken off the glass animals inside.” With each item announced, Donald’s grin began to widen even more and more.

As Donald set the glass menagerie, complete with glass animals inside, onto his work table, he turned to the boys and announced: “Now, you kids glue the legs back on these beasts while I tackle the other jobs!”

The weight of the room seemed to have fallen onto the chests of the boys as they mechanically walked towards the work-table. And with each step they took toward the table’s bench to sit down, they grew more and more angry. Finally, as they sat down, and started gluing the legs back onto the glass animals, they began to speak their mind: “We coulda guessed there was a catch in this racket someplace!”

Of course, Uncle Donald could not hear the complaints, for he was far too busy with his own projects. His grand project at the moment, however, was thinking. “Now where’s that oil can to oil the meat chopper with?” he asked out loud.

Suddenly, the boys realized what he said, and Duey quickly ran over to the pull-wagon and pulled out the oil can for his uncle. Duey then went back to the work-table.

Confusingly, Donald looked at his oil can that had been in their wagon. And even though he wondered why it was in there, he walked away from the wagon merely saying: “I’m not even going to ask.”

 

 

Chapter 4

Great Ideas That Go Awry

Taking the oil can over near the meat chopper, Donald oils the chopper to his satisfaction. “Ah!” he said. “The chopper’s oiled.” He then places the meat chopper right beside the work-table, near to where the boys were sitting, because that was where the plug-in was at, so he could turn the machine on. “I’ll let it run awhile to limber up the bearings.” he said to himself.

Meanwhile, he walked over to get the iron. He picked it up and walked to the other end of the work-table, so he wouldn't disturb his nephews, who were hard at work gluing the animal’s legs on.

Taking a hammer and a large railroad spike, he hammered the spike into the side of the iron to open its insides up. “Now to see what ails this electric iron.” he said, as the iron’s side gives way and comes open. Slowly he took out all the insides, and carefully laid them onto the work-table.

Picking up his handy “do-it-yourself” book, he read the following:

“Contact ‘A’ may be arcing through electrode ‘K’ to oxidize ‘B!’ Try relay ‘J’ through by-pass ‘X’ to coil ‘D.’”

Setting the book back down on the work-table, he confidently picks up his flat-head screwdriver and places its flat head on what he thought looked reasonable. “This thing here looks like it might be an electrode!” he said, while he worked his screwdriver around it. Then he moved the screwdriver over a bit more to the left inside the mass of wires and screws. “And I bet,” he continued, “that red wire is what they call a coil.”

After a few more adjustments, he put everything back inside the iron where he believed that they should go. He clasps it back together, and, with the best of confidence, began to plug it into the wall-plug that was set just above the work-table.

“How’s that for speed, boys?” he said to his nephews. “I’ve got these two jobs finished already!”

He then turned the iron on to see if it would get hot - and hot it did get!

 

 

 

 

“So, that iron wouldn’t get hot, eh?” he said, laughingly, to the boys.

At this moment, the table beneath the iron began to sizzle - and sizzle rather loudly!

 

 

 

 

“It’s getting too hot.” Donald replied, as he began to reach out his hand to it. “I’ll just have to adjust the turn screw.”

As he reached for the temperature adjustment, his fingers barely had time to touch the screw when a great surge of heat burnt the tips of his fingers. The pain was so sudden and severe that he yelled out in the loudest manner possible as he held that hand with the other one.

The noise of his yelling startled the boys, who jumped suddenly to their feet!

“Pull the cord, unca Donald!” They said. “You’ll blow a fuse.”

By that time, tremendous amounts of black smoke began to rise from the work-table - so much so, that visibility did become an impossibility.

“But I can’t find the cord!” said Donald, as he rubbed his eyes because of the thick smoke. “I can’t see anything in this smoke!”

Suddenly, a loud noise was heard: “Ploonk!”

 

 

 

 

“What dropped, unca Donald?” asked the nephews, with a worried expression on their faces.

At this time, a clearing in the smoke was made possible, and Donald could see the reason for the noise - it was the iron! It had burnt clean through the work-table, and hit the floor with a thud!

“The Iron!” Donald yelled. “It burned through the wooden table, and dropped on the cement floor!”

Following the iron with his eyes, Donald continued his examination of its action to the boys: “And it’s melting and running across the floor like hot grease!”

Not only that, but it was also working its way to the other end of the table where the boys had been sitting. It got real close to the leg of the work-table.

“Its set the table legs afire!” yelled one of the boys.

Not only so, but as the table leg burned, it began to disintegrate. The glass animals that were sitting on the table began to roll off the table and directly into the meat chopper that was sitting on the floor by the table. And we must remember that Donald left the chopper running, so as the animals were dropped in, they were being chopped out!

 

 

 

 

“What happened?” Donald asked, with his hand over his eyes. “I’m afraid to look!”

As one of the boys held the glass dust of the animals in his hands, he informed his uncle of what happened: “Well, you’ve just put Mrs. Welty’s Glass menagerie through Butcher McCann’s meat chopper.”

And, as though the matter was a simple one, Donald merely unplugged the iron, let it cool down, grabbed the broom, and swept the grounded glass and iron out of the shop’s door; and concluded with this statement: “Well, a guy must expect some setbacks in any business!”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

From Awry to Downright Ridiculous

Looking into the pull-wagon once again, Donald asked the boys, “What else did you bring in to be fixed?” And before the boys had a chance to answer, Donald pulled an item out himself: “A vacuum cleaner.” he said.

“Yes,” said one of the boys, “It belongs to Daisy. She says its got weak suction.”

“Weak suction, eh?” asked Donald. “Much like the workers who try to get their pay out of Uncle Scrooge. And since this belongs to Daisy, that means I’ve got to do an extra good job on it!” And as he walked over toward his handy book, he replied: “Let’s see what ‘Feebrunkle’s Fix-It Guide’ has to say about vacuum cleaners.”

After a moment of reading, Donald’s head began to swim: “Remove ‘A’ at point where ‘C’ joins ‘E.’ Bend radius ‘B’ to touch ‘D’ at point ‘P.’ Push ‘K’ through ‘J’ and join ‘X’ to ‘A.’ This will force ‘G’ to move ‘C’ and ‘E’ and ‘B’ while ‘P’ works ‘O,’ and ‘Z’ can’t go.”

Not wanting to seem threatened in front of his nephews, Donald, who acted with the greatest of confidence, marched over to the vacuum with a crow bar. And as he pried his way into it, he announced loudly: “As usual, Feebrunkle is 100% right!”

When the top was completely pried open, he began to shake all the components out onto the floor. Nuts and bolts flew everywhere! “Now, all I have to do is find which parts are A’s and which are B’s.”

Setting the vacuum against the wall, Donald got onto his knees to sort through the mechanical mess. He picked up a part that appeared to be some sort of fan. “I bet this fan is the gizmo that was messing up the works!” he said, with assurance.

One of the nephews intervened with Donald’s observance: “Daisy thought that the filter on the dust tank was clogged, unca Donald.”

With that announcement, Donald examined the fan even closer. “No doubt bending these blades like this will unclog the filter and fix everything.” He began to curve each blade on the small fan to his satisfaction. Suddenly, he sprung to his feet and ran the boys out the door, while he said: “Well, don’t stand around watching me - go find another load of things to be fixed!”

And so, later on:

 

“I’ve fixed it!” he yelled, being happy with his work that he did on Daisy’s vacuum. In fact, the vacuum may have been working too well. “It’s sucking dirt from ten feet away!” he said, while he watched as the dust particles flew in.

Upon a sudden thought, he rushed madly out the door, with the vacuum upon his shoulder. “I’ll deliver this job myself, just so I can show Daisy what a hot-shot I am!”

Sure enough, as he worked his way into Daisy’s home, he headed straight over to the nearest plug-in. “Behold, mamselle!” he said, while plugging it in. “Your vacuum cleaner will now pick up anything - even bits of gossip!”

Daisy, wide-eyed, watched with anticipation.

As soon as it was turned on, she exclaimed: “It sounds like a rock crusher!”

As he held the vacuum cleaner still, he announced - loud enough for Daisy to hear: “Well, no wonder, it’s sucking dirt from clear across the room!”

Daisy took a look behind him, for there was something shooting out the back end of the vacuum. “And what it is sucking, it is spitting out the back pipe!” Looking back at Donald, she asked very worriedly: “Donald, where is that lint coming from?”

Donald’s head spun quickly around to see for himself. Sure enough, something was spitting out the back end of the vacuum. Turning his attention back to the front of it, he picked it up from off the carpet, only to find a large gash in the middle of it - which did expose the wooden floor beneath!

“It’s my carpet!” Daisy yelled, in complete exasperation, while pointing to the spot in question. “It sucked a hole through my carpet!”

“I - I.” Donald stammered. “I shouldn’t have left it in one place so long!” At this, he began to move the vacuum across the floor. And as it moved, it left a trail of exposed wooden floor, as it ripped up the carpet along the way, and shot it out the back-pipe of the vacuum!

At the sight of this, Daisy began to scream!

“Turn it off, turn it off!” she yelled over to him. But it was too late: the vacuum, becoming increasingly stronger the longer it was on, had started pulling Donald along with it, helplessly!

“It won’t turn off!” He yelled back to her, as he hung on with dear life. “It’s running away like a power lawn mower!”

Suddenly, as it ran out of floor, the vacuum began to climb the wall - taking Donald with it! As it nearly reached the ceiling, Donald turned back his head toward Daisy, and said: “Pull the plug, Daisy! Pull the plug!”

Then it began to fly across the ceiling, sucking the paint up as it went. By the time he was in the middle of the room, Daisy was finally able to reach the plug. Vacuum and Donald suddenly took a dive downwards! He and the vacuum landed directly in the middle of a table; upon contact, he broke the dishes that were on it!

As everything was now quiet, there was a moment of utter silence. Both Ducks were stunned at what had just happened. Daisy was standing near the plug, wide-eyed, beak open, and not able to say a word, and Donald was sitting on top of the new mess he had just made, with a broken table, and glassware beneath him. Finally, Donald broke the silence.

“Did something break?” He asked, with the most innocent look in the world upon his face.

“Yes,” Daisy said, almost dizzy. “My ancient Ming Tea Set that has been priceless for two thousand years!” She then pulled out her hanky to have a good cry.

Donald, perhaps not fully realizing the value of the tea set, merely remarked: “That’s too bad.”

Getting up and dusting himself off, he picked up the vacuum and told her, “But I wouldn’t give up on this vacuum if I were you.” He then attached a hose to it, while he said: “That tremendous suction should be good for something - like dragging the moths out of your closet.”

And before Daisy even had a chance to stop him, the vacuum was turned back on, and the hose was placed inside her closet, the door being nearly closed. “Watch this.” He said, with confidence, as it sucked the inside of her closet.

Standing near the back of the vacuum cleaner, Daisy began to witness all kinds of small items being shot through the back pipe!

“Stop it! Stop it!” She yelled. “You’re sucking out more than moths!”

He quickly ran over to turn off the monstrous machine while she ran over to her closet. When the door was opened fully, she saw nothing but a tremendous mess of fur and buttons all over the closet floor. Picking up her two favorite clothing items, she yelled at Donald at the top of her lungs: “Every button off my clothes! Every hair off my silver fox coat!”

She then slammed the items to the floor, and began to chase him, with fire in her eyes!

Quickly realizing that this is his que to get out - he grabbed her vacuum with one hand and held on to his hat with the other, and began to beat a retreat!

As she chased him out the door, she said: “You monster! You meddler! Take that thing back and fix it, or I’ll sue you!”

 

 

Chapter 6

From Ridiculous to the Final Straw

Back at his shop, Donald tinkered with the vacuum’s insides once again. He reached directly for the fan, for he believed that it was that one item in the vacuum that was giving him all his troubles. Thinking, perhaps, if he just knock every other blade off the fan completely, it would give him just the right amount of suction power to please Daisy. So he did so.

“I’ve knocked half the blades off that fan." he said. "It should suck only half as hard now.”

With this new confidence, he placed all the parts carefully back into the vacuum, plugged it into the wall, and turned it back on. Yet, instead of sucking at only half its former strength, it then sucked twice as hard: “Whup!” He yelled. “It is sucking harder than ever now.”

He made this claim, seeing that the nails in the boards of his shop were starting to come loose! In fact, one entire board was bulging inwards toward the vacuum, the nails being halfway out by that time.

Standing in amazement at the vacuums strength, he watched as the nails began to actually come out of the board and into the vacuum! “Wow!” He exclaimed. “It is sucking the nails right out of the walls!”

Just then, the back of the vacuum comes near his body, and the air shooting from it is so strong, that it knocks him against the wall at the other end of the shop. “Brother! Feel that thing blow!”

By then, the nails had made their way through the vacuum, and were then, like missiles, coming straight toward him - and nailed him completely against the wall!

“Nailed to the wall like a blasted poster!” He proclaimed. “While that thing runs wild all over the place!” And, sure enough, the vacuum did just that!

Later on, the boys were returning with a fresh load of fixable items - excited that they were able to find so many good things for their uncle to do.

“I bet unca Donald will jump for joy when he sees what we’ve got!” said Huey to the other two.

“You’re right, Huey. I agree with you!” replied Luey.

“Or will he?” Suddenly added Duey, as he saw a spectacle that caused all of them to stop dead in their tracks! It was uncle Donald, marching across their path, not even noticing the boys standing there. But the boys did notice him, with his half torn cloths, and a fiery red look in his eyes, and what seemed to be steam coming from out of his ears!

As he completely left their presence, the boys looked at each other in confusion, and then ran over to where the shop was. To their utter surprise, they found, instead of a shop, nothing more than a pile of broken up boards, and a stream of smoke coming from the centermost part of the heap! Nailed to one of the boards was the sign: “Donald Duck’s Fix-It Shop.” And below this sign, was another, more freshly painted sign, that read: “If you can fix it, you can have it! Signed D.D.”

THE END