(This was a comment i started typing to someone. but ended up cutting out the last two paragraphs. since it TECHNICALLY wasn't what the person wanted to hear. But I just thought I'd share anyway. typing it has left me a bit depressed. the more praise the annual gets, the more i hurt. I really need to stop looking in the Duck Knight returns part of the forum...)
no no, I was just commenting on what happened in the first arc. I'd call that a broken friendship. megs still seems to care. But Quackerjack doesn't. Which, to me, makes it stranger when you add the events with Claire. Why does megs get tossed to the side, somebody he knew for years...but QJ turns himself into a toy for Claire? It bugs me a lot. The whole "Toy With Me" story gets to me.
It hurts me a lot to the point i think I'm crazy for caring so much. These are fictional characters...but they've become so close to me I practically consider them my friends. Quackerjack had his mental breakdown. that's how he became Quackerjack. but he was able to get through that with such an optimistic attitude. I connect to that deeply. Which is probably why the annual bugs me so much. it reminds me of all the pain i've gone through in my life, and yet how i was able to see the hope and bright side through it all. The toymaker and I shared that kinship. Quackerjack giving up on life scares me. Because a part of me wonders if i'm doomed to the same fate. "Just one bad day..." I'm tired of people quoting "the Killing Joke". Is it naive of me to wish that the villains will get a happily ever after too? Sure, I don't expect them to beat darkwing duck or get a major victory. No, i wish for the ones that do age to grow old and die happy.
I'm sure Quackerjack will be back. That he won't stay a toy forever. But he'll never be himself again. When I look at the comics, all i see is the Joker. From the way he moves to his expressions. Why can't there be such a thing as a happy villain? Why is it deemed as childish? Just because we mature does not mean that we have to become serious. That what we love has to become twisted and morbid with us.
- (no subject)