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Life is like a hurricane

Here in Duckburg

Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes

It's a duck-blur

Might solve a mystery

Or rewrite history

DuckTales, ooh-ooh

Every day, they're out there making DuckTales

Ooh-ooh

Tales of derring-do, bad and good-luck tales

D-d-d-danger

Watch behind you

There's a stranger out to find you

What to do? Just grab onto some DuckTales

Ooh-ooh

Every day, they're out there making DuckTales

Ooh-ooh

Tales of derring-do, bad and good-luck tales

Ooh-ooh

Not ponytails or cottontails

No, DuckTales

Ooh-ooh

Shh, be very, very quiet. We're hunting Beakley.

Comin' within range.

Enemy sighted.

What do you think, Grammy?

It's Huey, Dewey and Louie.

It's very, uh, colorful, dear,

but why don't you show it to the boys?

Oh, they'd make fun. They don't like me bothering them.

They think I'm a tagalong.

Well, I don't know if they like me, either.

But we'll give them some time.

Ready tuning forks.

Tuning fork ready.

Run!

Uh-oh.

Huey, Dewey, Louie...

Quick, the bed!

And what about this tuning fork?

Uh, it's Duckworth's. But can we have it back?

How would you like me to use it on you?

She'd never dare.

Vibration alert.

That's no tuning fork. That's...

Launchpad McQuack!

Bingo. Right on target.

Now for Mr. McD's provisions.

And he'll need this and that, maybe a couple of these.

No time to lose. Gangway!

- What's going on in here, Launchpad? - Sorry, Mrs. B. No time for joyrides.

Mr. McD's stuck on a raft floating toward Antarctica.

More, gotta get more.

Antarctica? Mr. McDuck will need something warm.

I'll get my scarf.

Hey, boys, did you hear about your Uncle Scrooge?

Hello? Boys?

Quick, that little tagalong is following us again.

- Come on, let's hide in the plane. - Hey, wait for me.

Let's roll!

- Help! - Next stop, Antarctica.

Wait! Mr. McDuck will need this.

Oh, well.

Webby!

I'm coming, Webby.

Hm, that's odd. The landing gear's stuck. I wonder what's causing the trouble.

- Excuse me. - No autographs now, kid.

- Webby, what are you doing here? - Uh... uh...

We'll figure that out later. I got a landing gear that needs me.

Help!

Grammy!

Shoulda brought a crowbar.

What are you doing on this plane?

Oh, I was looking for the boys.

The boys? Huey, Dewey, Louie, come out this second.

- Little tattletale. - Can't trust a girl.

As the nephew's nanny, I order you to return to Duckburg.

Sorry, Mrs. B., no can do.

Mr. McD's hunting for his treasure map,

and if I don't get to him with these supplies before his homing beacon dies...

...he's a goner.

Welcome to beautiful, frozen Antarctica.

This homing device ought to find Mr. McD.

We're in luck. The beeps are getting stronger.

Mr. McD's coming this way. He should be just over that snowbank.

Yike, a walrus!

This way.

Stay way from them, you walking overbite.

That's Uncle Scrooge's life raft.

Uh-oh. Down, boy. Heel!

Don't worry, I'll save ya. Oops!

Yaah!

Great. I guess we gotta save them.

- Yah-hah! - Whaa-hah-hah!

Yah-hah! Break left.

Yaah-ha-ha-ha-oh!

Hey, nice landing. On a scale of one to ten, I'd give it a C-plus.

Why was it wearing Uncle Scrooge's life jacket and homing beeper?

Looks like Uncle Scrooge used it to hitch a ride with the big guy.

But without his homing beeper, he's lost. How are we gonna find him?

Thanks for saving her.

Just what we need, another tagalong.

There, there. It's OK.

- Upp. - See? She likes us.

Well, we don't like her.

Huh, she's making friends with penguins

while Uncle Scrooge is lost in the snow.

You know, boys, we could backtrack the walrus' trail and find your uncle.

Uh, yeah. We were just gonna say that.

They must get smarter as they get older.

Hurry! The tracks lead this way. Look, a cave.

Uncle Scrooge's tracks lead in there.

- Now what? - The tracks end here.

Look. It's just like that gold coin Uncle Scrooge found,

and there's Uncle Scrooge's mark. This way.

Wow, it's beautiful. Frozen river, dead ahead.

No problem. It's as hard as my noggin. Heh-heh.

- Whoa! - We'll catch you, Launchpad.

Hey, pretty slick.

- Now you stay close to me, young lady. - Oh...

This flare gun will throw a little light on the situation.

No, Launchpad!

Run!

Launchpad!

Hopscotch across.

Oh, wait. Don't leave us.

Where's the brake on this thing?

Better duck. Either we're getting taller,

or the roof's getting shorter. Hang on!

Wow, what a roller coaster!

Lucky this crate's seaworthy.

Yeah, but where's it taking us?

Grammy, they're gone.

Don't worry, Webbigail. We'll find them. I hope.

Hey, I know a shortcut, but we've gotta get to them fast.

- Ahh, you can talk! - I suppose I can. Now come on.

How come you didn't say anything before, Skittles?

Well, my parents told me never to talk to strangers, and...

and I didn't know if you'd like me.

I don't have any friends back home.

That's why I was out on the ice above.

- We like you, Skittles. - You must.

You just gave me all these beautiful colors.

So? What's so special about that?

Look around. Down here, everything's white.

No colors, nothing.

Color is so rare that anyone would fight over a small scrap of it.

That's why your friends are in big trouble.

- 'Cause of their clothes? - There's no telling what would happen.

Wow, a whole underground civilization.

This must be where Uncle Scrooge is.

I wonder what the natives look like - popsicles?

No, penguins, and nervous ones at that.

Hey. Hey, stop that.

Hey, what's the big idea?

How do I look?

You're making a powerfully big mistake messing with me.

Messing with you?

I'll have you know I'm the personal pilot of Mr. Scrooge McDuck!

- You know McDuck? - We're like brothers.

Whoa-oa-oa!

Hey, you renegades from a prom...

Uhh, talk about a cold reception.

Quit gripin' and gimme a boost.

Alley-oop.

Ahh, it's Uncle Scrooge!

Why, tickle me tail feathers. Huey, where's Launchpad?

- Here, Mr. McD. - What happened, Uncle Scrooge?

I found the missing half of the treasure map

to the Valley of the Golden Suns.

Suddenly, I'm arrested for attempted robbery

and thrown in here with nothing but me skivvies on.

Then these black-and-white hoodlums

took my half of the map to add to their collection.

- What do we do? - We've gotta get back to the plane.

Even if we escape, without our parkas, we'll freeze inside.

Mrs. Beakley's still wandering around.

Beakley's here? Then there's still hope.

What's she gonna do, knit us out?

She'll be captured easier than we were.

We're too late. Now we'll never save them.

Never say never. I have a plan.

But first, we need to... Aah!

- What is that thing? - It's a prehistoric wooly walrus.

Walruses eat penguins.

That one must've eaten lots.

Yes, but that was long ago.

Right now, I have to find a place to hide you.

- All clear. - Just a little more coal dust. There.

A regular little penguin you are.

Here, you can wear my winter coat.

- Ooh, Skitty. - It's my mum. Hide.

Skittles, what's going on in there? Oh, you've got a friend.

Mum, this is Webby.

Hello, dear. I'm so proud of you, Skittles.

See, I told you you'd find a friend.

No big deal, Mum.

Well, you two play. I'm going out to get a webicure.

Oh, poor kid's gonna need a beak job when she grows up.

Oh, that was close.

Ahh, Grammy.

Oh, now I know how a TV dinner feels.

- What's our next move? - Nothing.

You two are staying here while I get back everyone's clothes.

Of course we'll stay.

Come on. Your Uncle Scrooge's map is in our color museum.

Ahh, look, the map.

It's encased in ice.

That's how we protect colorful works of art.

It's no use. Nothing will break it.

Psst, boys.

It's Beakley.

Right. I knew you'd come to the rescue.

- Quick, put these on. - How'd she manage to get our clothes?

Don't know. Maybe we underestimated her.

Yeah, well, first let's see if she can break us out of here.

- The tuning fork! - That Beakley's OK.

Stand away from the wall, Uncle Scrooge.

It worked! Quick, Louie.

- Aha, that'll show those penguins. - I wouldn't bet on it.

We'd better get Webby and leave quickly.

Not without my map. You get the girl, I'll go to the museum.

- Launchpad! - Yes, Mr. McD?

Get up to the surface and warm up the plane.

- We'll meet you. - Right. Come on, boys.

This way to the museum.

We'll use your tuning fork to get the map out of the ice.

The museum is just a wee bit this way.

And those penguins are just a wee bit thataway.

Freeze, lawbreakers. Surrender.

You have nothing to lose but your colors.

We just have to make it up there, lads. On my word.

- Now! - Fire!

Keep goin'. We're almost there.

Mr. Scrooge?

- Webbigail? - Fire again!

- Ow. - Unh.

- Unh. - No!

Let's finish this. Ready, aim...

What the...?

- My map! - Come on, Mr. Scrooge.

Hey, lardo!

Toro! Toro!

Follow me, boys.

Whatever you say, Mrs. Beakley.

We've got to make it to the bridge. Take the scarf.

Aye, aye, Mrs. Beakley.

- We made it. - But we're not gonna be the only ones.

Webs, don't fail me now.

- Ach. Well, we're safe now. - Uh, Mr. Scrooge?

- Call me Uncle Scrooge. - Ha-ha. Mr. Uncle Scrooge?

We got company.

Mr. McDuck, this way.

Are they still behind us?

Like fluff on a chick's bottom.

Keep runnin', boys. The penguins are right behind.

So's Mr. Walrus.

- We can't make it, Uncle Scrooge. - You have to.

Skittles, my baby. They've stolen my baby.

Move it. Out of the way. That's my foot.

Head for the tail.

Hey, you wanna keep it down to a low roar back there?

Hang on tight and say bye-bye to Mr. Blubber.

I want to thank you all for rescuing me. It was a noble deed.

We couldn't have done it without Mrs. Beakley.

- She's great. - Yeah.

Still, I would like to have gotten that map.

Here, Uncle Scrooge.

- It's a copy of the map. - Webby made it with her color sticks.

- Angry penguins still below, Mr. McD. - We can't land, Skittles.

We're going to have to parachute you out.

Leave it to us. We gotta surprise that'll be just the thing.

Here, Skittles. Now you can make colors, too.

- Thank you. - And take this, dear, to remember us.

I'll never forget. You're my friends.

Geronimo!

Hey, boys, what's the surprise you gave Skittles?

Aw, just a little something that'll make her real popular.

Aw...

- Set coordinates, Launchpad. - To where, Mr. McD?

For the Valley of the Golden Sun.

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