AUTHOR'S NOTE: GASP! An update to this fic?! Believe it, it's good to finally get something on this good ol' fic again. It's also good to finally stretch my writing muscles again after quite a while of being blocked. But anyway, a particular tweet I saw today inspired this lovely little domestic scene. I hope you get a laugh out of it. Enjoy!


"Hey, D.W.! Look what I found!"

Drake looked up from his close investigation of the many ways a toothpaste could whiten teeth to see to his sidekick in the next aisle. What he saw was Launchpad wearing a giddy grin on his beak and holding a minimal navy bottle of something or other. Drake deduced it was shampoo given that the shelves were populated with the stuff, but he admitted to failing to see the significance of the particular specimen Launchpad had picked out. "Er, shampoo, eh, L.P.? Riveting."

"But that's not all! Look closer." And to help, Launchpad brought the bottle closer to Drake's face. His eyes began to scan the text:

BILLBASOL

9-in-1

Shampoo, Conditioner, Body Wash, Soap,

Lotion, Shaving Cream, Toothpaste. Detergent,

and Motor Oil

...motor oil?

"Did I skip my second cup of coffee today or does that say motor oil?"

Launchpad closely scanned the bottle himself then chuckled. "Well, whaddaya know? Isn't that nifty?"

Drake cocked his hip and scoffed. "I've heard of combo shampoos and conditioners, but this is past ridiculous," he sneered, tapping the bottle with a finger. "There's no way I'd ever let that sludge near these pristine feathers."

"Come on, D.W.! It's such a good value! You'll never need to buy another bottle o' soap again!"

"Absolutely not! I've got an image to maintain and this has no place in it."

Launchpad huffed and tossed the bottle into their cart of groceries anyway. "Well, I'm still gonna try it. I can't pass up a bargain like that." He then took the cart and wheeled it away to the checkout area.

Drake followed after, rolling his eyes fondly. "Well, when all your feathers fall off, we'll see who laughs last."

That night, as Drake sat watching TV, he could hear the familiar pitter-patter of the shower running upstairs. Must be crash-testing that cleansing chaos contained in that bottle, he thought. I refuse to believe that something with that many different products in it is worth more that the sum of its parts. It's inconceivable! He swung one leg over the other and returned to his show.

A few moments later, the water stopped, and soon, Launchpad emerged. Drake could tell because he yelled down the stairs, "D.W.! My feathers feel amazing! You gotta see this!"

Sighing, Drake left his entertainment and trudged up to meet Launchpad, who was at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a pink towel. He was genuinely curious as to what effect Launchpad was raving about. Before he could reach his hand out, something else reached him. Something that stopped his breath dead in its tracks.

Something that invaded his nostrils and made him lean backwards in a daze. Something that made him fall back down the stairs, tumbling end over end into a heap on the welcome mat.

"D.W.! You okay?" said Launchpad.

"What is that horrid smell?!" Drake cringed, easing upright onto his rear.

"Smell?" asked Launchpad, smelling himself. "I just got outta the shower. All's I smell is clean."

Drake jumped up in shock. "What?! It smells like a tire on fire!"

Launchpad rubbed the back of his neck. "Gee, I know you weren't keen on that 9 in 1 stuff, but don'tcha think that's kinda mean?"

"You really don't smell that rancorous, repugnant reek?"

"Nah. Maybe you're just sleepy."

Drake eyed his watch. It was nearing his bedtime. Plus, his was rapiding losing the will to argue, so he just shrugged and said, "Fine, L.P. If it smells clean, it smells clean."

"See? I knew you'd come around! Well, I'm bushed. G'night, D.W.!"

Drake waved him off to his room. "Night night, L.P..." As soon as he was gone, Drake shook his head and also retired to his room, only returning downstairs when he realized he forgot to shut off the TV.

That acrid smell had permeated past his olfactory cavities and into his dreams, so that the next time Launchpad set out to take a shower, his new super shampoo curiously wasn't there anymore.

"D.W.!" he called out. "I can't find my new shampoo!"

"Just borrow my Old Spice!" Drake answered back from the kitchen.

"Er, okay, then!"

Drake tsked to himself and turned the page of his newspaper. "At least we both know that won't smell like the inside of a dumpster...on the sun."