Darkwing Duck Fan episode: Splatter Phoenix Reborn

Prologue:
After the events of 'Paint Misbehaving,' Splatter was disolved into a puddle of goo and left in the street, only to be picked up in the morning by the streetsweeping truck and dumped into the holding tank with the rest of the refuse.  Once the truck has returned to the treatment plant and dumped its tank into the main vat, a shape begins to collesce from the slowly churning liquid, a mottled black, orange and white blob that just barely manages to stay in a single mass as the vat is drained, pulsing and shifting as it slowly assumes the form of a white-furred, black-haired duck on her side in the fetal position.

Chapter 1

	”Ohhhh, my head!”
	Splatter sits up slowly, hands over her face as she rocks gently, ”What a hangover, what the heck did I drink last night?  Wait, I never drink, I ... I hate alcohol, don't I?”
	She suddenly throws herself forward, on hands and knees as she vomits onto the ground, a true 'technicolor yawn,' the fluid that comes up a swirling rainbow of color.  Panting, she lifts her head, her raven-black hair hanging over her face, looking like a mix of feathery strands and runny paint. She pushes her hair back, revealing mismatched eyes, eyes not only differing in color and pupil count, but actively in flux, changing from moment to moment.  ”If I didn't drink anything,” she mutters, rising unsteadilly to her feet, not noticing the sick she steps in, and not noticing its absorption into her leg, the orange flesh dripping like a snowman in Spring, ”then what happened to me?”
	Staggering to the maintenance hatch, she swings open the heavy metal door and steps into darkness.  Wandering in the inky blackness, following a wall for several twists and turns, she finally finds a light switch, flipping it and screaming as she goes from a world of solid black to a world of glaring white tile illuminated by harsh flourecent bulbs.  ”AAAAH! Curse you Darkwing!  ... Why do I know that name,” she murmers, sitting on the cold tile next to a urinal, ”and why did I end up in a men's restroom?”
	Another bout of vomiting later, she pulls herself upright by the sink and looks into the mirror, ”Either they hung a Picasso knockoff in the bathroom or I look like he-*URP*” She staggers back as the nausea washes over her, looking down as a dolop of semi-solid flesh drips from hir arm, ”Is this what insanity feels like? Look at me, hello Dali. Heh heh, ha ha ha Ha HA HA.”  She falls to the floor again, curled up on her hide as she alternates laughing helplessly and vomiting.

	Sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, Splatter looks at her arms, tugging on her feathers, ”Okay, I don't seem to be as Wicked Witch of the West as I was before, time to get back to work.  Revenge!  I need to get my revenge against waffles.  Waffles?  Why would I want revenge against waffles?  That dosen't make sence, what was I trying to remember?  Darkwing! Should I make Darkwing some waffles?  After all he did buy me a drink.  Drink? But I don't drink, booze ... dosen't agree with me.”
	She stands slowly, pushing herself up against the wall, looking across the room at the full-length mirror, ”Darkwing, booze, waffles, what does it all mean?”  She doubles over in another bout of vomiting, but only bile comes up, not the multicolor mess of before, ”Ugh, I must have drunk something, something really cheep, that booze tastes like used terpentine.  TURPENTINE!” she shouts, standing upright, ”Darkwing stole my turpentine!  No, wait, I'm the one who does the stealing, why do I remember that?  I was stealing and he made me a drink.  No, that's not it, concentrate, Splatter! Is that my name, ugh, my brain feels like mush.  Take it slowly, don't try to force it .... I was stealing something, what was I taking?  Dosen't matter, don't get distracted, I was stealing, and Darkwing hit me with a waffle, no, he hit me with a can of turpentine.   THAT'S IT! Darkwing disolved me in turpentine!  That's why I remember him, and why I must have my WAFFLES!  Mua-ha-ha-ha!”
	She tosses her hair back and smirks at her reflection, then looks shocked, ”Revenge, not waffles, I must have my revenge.  So the first thing I must do is...” she ponders, gazing at herself in the tall mirror, ”...hit the health club, I'm looking really doughy in the midrift. Maybe there's still some turpentine in my system, perhaps too many waffles.  Waffles? What's with the waffles? I hate waffles ... don't I?”
	Running a hand through her hair, Splater takes a deep breath, ”Okay, first thing to do is ... get that bush trimmed, I'm looking positively Bohemian down there,  oh yeah, I should probably find some clothes too.”