SALTBURN (2023) Dir. Emerald Fennell

FROY GUTIERREZ

"huh." a sound of consideration as their finger runs over the (likely fake) fur of a squirrel tail "yeah, i'll buy it, i've gotta show someone." someone being huey, who probably knew a lot more about this due to his scout experience. it wasn't that they thought squucks were real necessarily, but had grown up with enough knowledge about how large and mysterious this world was. not that they could ever get to explore it, but.. "so this is.... what, a fuckin' knick knack shop? i thought it was a museum."

Eyebrows lifted, Wendy slowly sat up, feet removed from the desk and planted on the floor beneath their seat, magazine tossed aside. This kid was way more interesting than fashion advice they'd never follow. "No shit, Sherlock." She couldn't figure out whether to laugh or not, but amusement shone in her eyes. Were they fucking with her? Or did they truly believe squirrel-duck hybrids existed? "As far as I know, we don't have a you break it, you buy it sign around here." All it would take to fix was a little superglue, and if they were honest, they didn't really care how much cash padded Stan's pockets. "Do you actually want the fake... squuck?"

📍mcduck residence , duck pod set 𖨆 terence hansen @lcngstcryshcrt

they'd gotten sidetracked a while back, notes completely forgotten on the floor as they rambled on. when they're finally able to focus again, it's on the part of their set that had been painted red, despite them sitting firmly in the blue section of the room "what if we did, like, a dating advice segment? since, you know... valentine's day is coming up?" they step back, frowning as they try to imagine just the three of them doing such a thing before deciding they definitely need more help— ducks weren't particularly known for being romantic "how good are you at relationship advice?"

they seem to cheer almost instantly, a smile slowly returning to their face as numbers go down, and they're handing over the money without question. normally, dewey wouldn't have cared much. if they hadn't been able to sus out the scam. sometimes that bit of donald shined through— easily irritated, frugal, like they were still living on a boat "guess they're not real." it sounds easy for them to admit, despite their disappointment "my uncle, he's a treasure hunter— well, i guess he was, a few years back. he hates this place. but i figured he was just snobby." a soft snicker, and then a shrug, like what can ya do? "guess i'm not gonna prove him wrong."

"Sweet." Their index finger poked around the register, knocking the price down a few bucks; they didn't usually care how ridiculously priced anything was, but the thing was broken... and for some reason, she felt a little guilty ripping the poor kid off more than they already were by selling them the badly done taxidermy. "Yeah, basically. There is a museum in town. But I don't think they have any..." She eyed the squuck, as they had called it, not too keen to reach out and touch it. "... of these little guys."

they weren't usually the nag, the one to hold anyone accountable, so dewey felt they were due dew a little bit of annoyance. just once. they're rubbing the bridge of their nose, a self soothe picked up from some duck or another along the years, and they take a second before even attempting to answer the stupid question "you know what, i'm all for sexual liberation, obviously, but—" no. nope. he's not gonna do it. he's not gonna let this whole abandonment ruin his day. louie would just have to make it up "just go put some fucking clothes on." keys jingle, being taken from their pocket and held up to louie's eyeline "meet me in the garage, yooouuu owe me a hangout. and an explanation."

louie had only just stepped out of his private bathroom, towel around his hips, when he heard the voice of his older sibling. he sighed deeply to prevent rolling his eyes. he figured this was coming when he bailed on his plans with them, but when he saw- what was her name again- whoever she was, plans simply had to change. his eyebrows shot up, "an intervention?" he couldn't help but laugh in response, "an intervention about what?" he crossed his arms over his bare chest, but listened to his sibling nonetheless. the smile couldn't be wiped from his face, "dew, that's so fucking funny. i don't know how you could expect anything less of scrooge, three might even be a record low for the guy at the rat's,"

          — vincent van gogh

Six Feet Under (2001-2005)