#you can't answer “what are the writers trying to do” “how is that thematically consistent with the story so far”

[dreadfutures]

this post has been interrupted by a shepherd's crook coming out and yanking me away from the keyboard

[randomthefox]

Even when ignoring the games and judging idw sonic on its own merits, it's just not a good product. Idw sonic is one of the most boring and shallow comic books I've ever read. Every concept gets ruined beyond salvation. The story is always disagreeing with itself and refusing to go anywhere. Every character is either a plank of wood or unforgivably annoying. The visuals and scenery are woefully forgettable.

I honestly can't tell what the point is. From a business standpoint, the answer is obviously money. But from a creative standpoint, what's being done here? Are the writers and artists getting any enjoyment from creating such banal slop? Is it fun to spend so much effort creating a story that doesn't function in any way whatsoever?

That's not even getting into how mediocre idw sonic is compared to actually good comics. And even if you go only by comics under idw publishing the idw sonic comic still falls short.

Read any non-sonic comic published by idw then go back to idw sonic. The difference in quality and entertainment value is staggering.

Idw sonic has no value and the atrocious writing choices make zero sense.

Yeah exactly.

It being a disrespectful toxic blight upon the Sonic franchise is why I HATE it, but it's still a completely irredeemable heap of trash even if you just treat it as its own standalone product. And like I've said before the comic is INCOMPREHENSIBLE GIBBERISH if you do not have a pre-established familiarity with the video games. So even if you're completely ridiculously unreasonably generous and go into the comic with full knowledge and awareness of the video games in mind so that you know who everybody is because the comic never explains or introduces anybody, and even if you accept for the sake of argument that the status quo of the series is what the comic says it is even though the comic never demonstrates it and nothing from the video games supports its assertions - the comic STILL completely FAILS as a narrative.

The characters do not act consistently with their established characterization within the comic nor with their previous deeds and stated beliefs. There is NO character development, for ANYONE. There is no world building to speak of, I legitimately have no idea where the fuck the comic is even supposed to take place or where anything is in relation to anywhere else. Everybody constantly acts like a complete moron in order to facilitate plot contrivances that aren't interesting or entertaining. There's no thematic concepts or insightful commentary to be found, the closest the comic gets to anything of that nature is meta textual interludes that make zero sense within the context of the universe and are only included for the sake of shouting "THOSE SONIC VIDEO GAMES SURE ARE STUPID AND DUMB AMIRITE?" to the audience. And the art has degraded to the point of being absolutely nauseating to look at with the sequential flow of events being borderline impossible to follow along with.

This comic is unreadable garbage. The ONLY conceivable POSSIBLE way ANYBODY could derive ANY enjoyment from it whatsoever at this point is if they HATE HATE HATE the Sonic video games and the comic serves as an outlet for them to hold aloft and proclaim it to be superior to the video games. In the same way some fifty year old divorcee will go to bars and try hitting on twenty year olds by telling them how much hotter she is than his ex wife.

This comic cannot be cancelled soon enough.

[sing-in-me-oh-muse]

Writer Highlight from Writers Sanctuary

Each month on Writers Sanctuary, a Discord server that nurtures writers of all kinds, highlights a writer and asks them questions about their writing process. This month's writer is Chai_ki!

@Chai_ki

Ao3 Profile: Chai_ki

Works:

Fervor Lullaby was fun to write and it honestly just flowed. I think that’s why I like it so much.

Can I Take Your Last Name was my first attempt at humor and I had a ton of fun writing it.

The Cadence of Leaves was my first multi-chapter fic and even though I haven’t posted in a while, I’m on track to finish it!

What is your writing process? How do you approach a fic or original work? (e.g. Are you a Pantser? Plotter? Do you focus on dialogue before description? etc.)

Pantser, now there's a great term! I would have to say that I am definitely more of a pantser but occasionally will try to plot. Most of the time I just write as things come and hope it all flows well. 😅A lot of my ideas come from music. I usually can imagine a scene in my head during a song and then that scene grows (if I'm lucky). Original works have been hard as I have a tendency to want to over-explain things and feel like I can't get the characters back stories across well enough. That's one of the reasons I love fan fiction, those reading already know the characters so I can just dive right into the story.

What was your first story and why did you finally decide to write?

Ooo this is hard. My first ever story was one about cats I think. It was in 1st or 2nd grade. I've had random other stories since then. My first Miraculous fic was titled "Affinity" and I first posted it on Amino. It's one I would like to rewrite (and finish) at some point, but I have a few other projects to finish first. I have always loved to write and as stated in answer 1, I struggle with over-explaining my characters. I fell in love with Miraculous and then found out there was this entire community of writers and realized I had found my version of heaven. That was in 2018 and since then writing for the fandom has been one of my most relaxing hobbies.

Where is your favorite place/time/conditions to write?

This one is easy, mostly. I can honestly write just about anywhere - so long as I don't have other responsibilities to attend to in the moment. I prefer to have music playing, usually it's songs that have inspired my current work, but I can write without it as well. So long as the ideas are flowing, I'm able to write!

What is your favorite pairing, platonic or romantic, and why?

Fandom specific would be the love square. I honestly can't really say why, I just know I adore them. I think a part of it is because I see bits of myself in each character, both in cannon and fanon. I also love the dynamic between Alya and Marinette. Alya reminds me of my best friend of 25 years in so many ways and I find I end up writing from personal experience with them. In terms of anything other than my own writing, I enjoy a variety of parings and ships and enjoy seeing how other creators bring them to life. (Not fandom specific I have a few parings that I'd consider an OTP, but that would make this answer way too long. 🤣)

Do you have any thematic elements you’re interested in or that consistently show up in your writing?

To be honest, I haven't thought much about themes in my writing. I suppose my main theme is cutesy love stories, friends being there for each other. Stuff like that. I'd love to get good at writing adventure or humor, but I'm not sure I'm there yet. I do have a WIP that is an adventure story. The prompt is a Goonies/National Treasure AU I was given in the MWG for December's event. I'm struggling with it, but I also enjoy the challenge. One of my favorite tropes is friends to lovers and I feel like I use that in every story I've posted so far.

How do you deal with writer's block?

Music. Just about everything comes back to music for me. Sometimes I get disheartened if I'm stuck but I've found that listening to music, be it a new song, band or old favorite always sparks something creative.

What do you do if you have too many ideas?

I feel as though that's a normal state of living for me. 😅At any given moment some idea for something is floating around in my mind. (Along with a constant radio of song.) If one idea really sparks an interest I will hyper fixate on it, otherwise they live in my head, rent free. Truthfully, I should be noting them down somewhere...

You said that Fervor Lullaby (which is adorable) was fun and easy to write because it "just flowed." How long did writing the one shot take in that flow tate, and have you ever been able to get back into it for any other pieces?

Thank you! 🥺 Fervor Lullaby took about 3 hours in total to write. I saw the prompt and the ideas just kept coming. Ironically this story didn't have a song to spark it though I found a very fitting one to go with it once it was done. Sadly, I haven't been able to get back that fast of a flow since then and IRL stuff has limited my writing time significantly over the last 6-ish months. I hope to get back into writing more now that things have slowed down a bit. Seeing other creators is always inspiring and I am grateful for the Miraculous community!

---

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[itsclydebitches]

The big problem with Robyn is that, in an arc about secrets, trust issues, manipulative propaganda and political sabotage, we're expected to just blindly trust a politician simply because she's against Jac-Ass. "She can't be bad. I mean, who's ever heard of a Politician lying or being deceptively pleasant or masking ill intentions with promises of progress? Bad Politicians are all overt about being bad guys!"

Yeah. And the funny thing is that the politician aspect isn't even an overt, textual element. I mean it exists, obviously, but Volume 7 didn't really have a "politicians are bad" (or at least inherently untrustworthy in their tendency to spin facts) message like Volume 8 eventually had a "military is bad" message in the form of our general dying off, Marrow's "collar" comment, etc. Neither Robyn nor Jacques are politicians yet, what with both of them currently trying to get elected... and then each essentially lose that chance given that Jacques is immediately arrested and the council is in no position to help with the problems that arise. The show might have turned to Robyn post-arrest, asking for her help from a political standpoint now that she's got her coveted seat, yet it's her semblance and fighting ability that the plot relies on, not her political standing. They're each much more defined by their initial roles in society — racist CEO and Robin Hood analogy — than they are defined by what they're trying to become. Like Penny's framing, the actual election, and Ironwood killing off one of the councilmen, the political aspects of this situation are just kinda... there, with no real tether to the story as a whole. Does anyone care that Penny was framed for an attack, that Robyn should now be with the council, or that martial law doesn't involve killing off the previous people in charge because they asked wtf is going on? Nah. Because that would mean all of these aspects have to be carried forward, from Penny grappling with her lost status as the Protector of Mantle, to Winter reacting to Ironwood's murder. Which, in turn, would take the plot in directions the writers clearly weren't interested in. So we're left with the politics just existing in the background, characters occasionally referencing them like they mean something, but in reality they're background dressing.

God do I wish RWBY would engage with the propaganda already in the story though. They should be thinking about the difference between Ironwood being totally upfront about how complicated things are whereas someone like Jacques pretends that everything is perfect — and he has all the answers. They should consider decisions like why Ozpin wouldn't want, beyond personal reasons, for the one faunus headmaster to be outed as a supporter of Salem (especially when Blake is standing right there). They should have realized by now that how they present themselves to the world has a huge impact on not just flimsy things like trust, but concrete things like grimm attacks too. If they took one look at Mantle and were scared off of trusting Ironwood after spending a whole volume trying to reach him, how do they think the world is going to react to a tiny 17yo stuttering through a nonsensical sounding announcement? That consistent expectation that what applies to everyone else does not apply to Ruby (and her friends) is likewise seen in how the story approaches perception. After Ironwood explained everything and, as far as he was able, proved that he was telling them the truth, they had no reason to mistrust him except for perception. "Things look bad, therefore they must be bad. Who's to blame for bad things? The person in charge. They are responsible with no wiggle room or nuance allowed" Yet, as said, we're simultaneously told that we're meant to take Robyn's perception at face value — she says she wants to help Mantle — as well as the group's — Ruby told the world that Ironwood wasn't trustworthy and that they needed to listen to her. Yet if any character challenged the idea of trusting Robyn or, worse, challenged the idea that anyone should follow the random woman who dropped a story about magic and denounced a world leader... they'd be framed as foolish at best, maliciously "paranoid" at worst. How dare you not take these Good People at their word, no matter that Ruby not taking Ironwood at his word is, supposedly, what makes her better than Ozpin.

Who, of course, didn't take the group or the inner circle at their word either — with proof for why he found that necessary in the form of Lionheart. Yet he's still the one to apologize for keeping secrets. The story simply knows who is Good and who is Bad, demanding that the audience accept that division without question, no matter how much it messes with the rules being set down. You've got to hold two contradictory ideas in your head at the same time: this is a universal, thematic truth... but a group member breaking it doesn't make them Bad. A character thought to be Bad upholds that universal, thematic truth... but that doesn't make them Good. Everyone's got a little, moral label taped to their foreheads and nothing they actually do will ever change that.

[tobiasdrake]

DuckTales Season 1: Worst to Best Episodes List

Here we go. Every episode of DuckTales Season 1 in order, from the worst to the best. If you've been following my work, you may not be surprised at what the top and bottom entries are.

The Corner of Shame

25. The Living Mummies of Toth-Ra

When I started writing this series, there were a few episodes I anticipated and a few I dreaded. "The Living Mummies of Toth-Ra" was the episode I dreaded revisiting most. This is the only episode of the season, possibly of the entire series, that I can honestly say I never, ever want to watch again at any time for any reason.

"The Living Mummies of Toth-Ra" is a trainwreck of thematic implications. It's impossible to tell if this episode is malicious or simply careless but it doesn't matter. The ideas it presents are supremely gross and I am happy to be able to wash my hands of it forever.

24. The Great Dime Chase

This is a worldbuilding episode disguised as a plot. It has three jobs: to introduce the Money Bin, to introduce the Number One Dime and its accompanying mythos, and to start off the glacial drip-feeding of the Della Duck mystery by planting false clues that undermine or even outright contradict the ultimate reveal.

The story is an excuse plot; the first of a few episodes revolving around Scrooge trying to teach Louie the value of hard work, but the cascade of chaos that ensues has little to do with that lesson. It quickly becomes clear that Scrooge has no hard work for Louie to do, and Louie spends the rest of the episode getting into shenanigans as he tries to reclaim the Number One Dime.

The episode ends in a weird spot where Louie is rewarded for those shenanigans with a payment of a dime. It's supposed to be a heartwarming moment suddenly punctuated by the punchline of Louie buying 1/11th of a soda with it, but it mainly demonstrates Scrooge's antiquated sense of value. The point is to teach Louie the value of money, but it instead reveals that Scrooge sorely misunderstands the value of labor.

23. Day of the Only Child

Credit where credit is due, this episode truly made me see the value of a vignettes episode. It's an episode structure I've never been fond of, as it typically consists of a series of short stories unrelated to one another. Sometimes those stories are even explicitly non-canon.

"Day of the Only Child" showed me how tying the stories together under a central theme can make for an engaging experience. The episode's function is to show that each of the Triplets is a capable individual who can survive an adventure or two on his own. They're not three pieces of one character; they are their own characters.

This is something that didn't need to be said out loud as it had been the main fixture of the show for over half a season by this point. However, it was still a cool idea. Shame the vignettes converge back into one another for a finale that shows that the boys, in fact, can't take care of themselves. Instead, they must rely on each other to clean up the messes they've each separately made.

The denouement indicates that the writers believe these events established the boys' independence. The reality is the opposite: these events demonstrated that the boys are utterly helpless without having each other to fall back on. The end result is a slightly better vignettes episode than I thought possible, which then slips and pratfalls on its face in the last minutes.

22. Daytrip of Doom

Daytrip of Doom is a setup episode, serving to answer important questions about the establishment of the show's status quo. It explores how Donald and the Triplets mesh with sharing a space with Mrs. Beakley and Webby.

Much of the episode's entertainment value comes from the sheer fact that Webby is consistently a scene-stealing delight. She's frequently the show's funniest character, which makes episodes starring her enjoyable to watch.

But as to the central question? This episode has no answers. It asks the question, "Webby is good for action scenes but she's also terrible at social situations. Why would anyone want to hang out with someone that's so weird and creepy?" And the answer it provides is, "...Webby is good at action scenes."

Webby and Donald share similar roles in that they don't fit in and are quickly loathed by Mrs. Beakley and the Triplets (Louie, specifically). This lack of fitting in is mined for gags and to build tension, but the ultimate resolution is that they're useful in emergencies, so I guess it's worth having them around. That's a bad resolution.

Decent, Not Great

21. Escape To/From Atlantis

This episode has the burden of being a setup episode as well. It's the second half of a two-parter tasked with not only delivering the first family adventure but also explaining why a loving parent would allow Scrooge to take these kids on adventures in the first place.

That last part is the weakest aspect of the episode. Dewey's quest to prove he can totally handle himself in perilous situations is the kind of story that makes sense in the context of setting up a Kid Hero plot but is impossible to justify from Donald and Scrooge's perspective. He wins because Donald and Mrs. Beakley must make recklessly negligent choices at the end so that the show can happen.

Never shine a spotlight on your Necessary Weasels. You might think that making plot points out of indefensible story elements gives you a chance to defend them, but it only calls attention to how indefensible they are.

But while the central character hook is bad, the exploration of Atlantis and introduction to Glomgold are a treat to watch. There's a lot to like about this episode's first look at a recurring thorn in Scrooge's side, as well as a few other delightful subplots such as Louie teaching Webby to lie (poorly).

20. Who is Gizmoduck?

Stop me if you've heard this before. A well-meaning Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera makes a mistake that jeopardizes Gyro's technology and is promptly fired. Mark Beaks snatches a piece of Gyro's tech that he doesn't understand, brands it for himself, and tries to sell it. When this decision goes disastrously haywire, Fenton must find the strength in himself to become Gizmoduck and thwart the problematic technology, with some help from his friends.

This episode is Fenton's subplot from "Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System" expanded into a full episode. The margins are filled with generic superhero stuff; specifically, Fenton is used to tell the classic "Who is really the hero: The man or the powers?" storyline that many superheroes face. But telling that story for a character who's barely even established himself as a superhero is a bizarre decision.

This results in an episode that feels horribly familiar due to being an amalgam of a well-worn superhero formula and an episode we've already watched. What carries the episode (and spares it from the Corner of Shame) is simply that Fenton himself is a likable character. Both he and antagonist Mark Beaks are scene-stealing treats, regardless of what they're given to do.

19. The Shadow War, Part I

Huh, what's that doing so low on this list? Wait a second, is that....

18. The Shadow War, Part II

Might as well address them together then.

Yeah, I'm not terribly fond of this season's grand finale. As a follow-up to both "The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck" and "The Last Crash of the Sunchaser", the finale leaves something to be desired.

The first episode resolves the emotional conflict between the family so that the second can deal with the physical conflict that Magica DeSpell poses. I like that, it avoids putting a gun to the characters' heads and making them develop emotionally under penalty of death as many shows (including this one) often do. Violently gaslighting protagonists is a common writing pitfall that "The Shadow War" deftly steps around.

But despite the first episode mocking the idea of resolving the conflict by repeating "Family family family" ad nauseum, the ultimate resolution from Donald winds up being "Family family family". It's hard to feel satisfied by this resolution, as the deep and complicated matter of Scrooge's involvement in Della's fate ultimately warranted a more complicated resolution than half of an episode could allow. Putting the reveal this close to the end of the season was a mistake.

Magica herself is the highlight of "The Shadow War". But "The Shadow War" is not a highlight of Magica. She makes for a wacky yet threatening serious villain, but it feels like a step down from the role that built up to it: Lena's abusive parental figure whose hyperbolic shadow animations punctuate her domineering control.

Magica is a great serious villain, but being a serious villain is unfortunately the low point of Magica's character in this season. It's not that she isn't fun to watch. It's that she's been more fun to watch in other episodes, so the entertainment value takes a step down instead of up when she reclaims her full power.

There are other issues such as Lena being sidelined in the conclusion to her own storyline and given only empty promises by Scrooge and the writers or the atrocity that is Donald's personality with the Barkesian Modulator. But the end result is that "The Shadow War" is a serviceable "epic season finale" more so than it is a fun and engaging DuckTales story that builds on the arcs and characters leading up to it.

17. Woo-oo

This episode had a difficult burden on its shoulders. As the first part of the opening two-parter, it had to introduce all of the characters for the first time. The decision was made not to open the series in media res with the status quo already established but to instead explain why the status quo exists.

Escape To/From Atlantis shoulders the burden of justifying the status quo, however. All Woo-oo had to do was get the kids into Scrooge's mansion and then get into shenanigans that would reignite the old codger's lust for adventure. This puts much of the episode's emphasis on the kids' shoulders to be entertaining and engaging characters. Fortunately, this rendition of the Triplets Plus One are up to the task.

The one thing holding this episode back is that it's all setup. This is by necessity. Later episodes have the advantage of being able to do interesting things with the characters because "Woo-oo" has already done the legwork in explaining to the audience who these people are. It's not exactly the epitome of storytelling but a show often needs to have episodes like "Woo-oo" so that it can have episodes like "McMystery at McDuck Manor" down the road.

16. The Spear of Selene

Remember what I said earlier about drip-feeding the mystery of Della Duck? "The Spear of Selene" is an entire episode dedicated to following up on the clue from "The Great Dime Chase". It's literally named after its central question: what is the Spear of Selene, why did Della steal it, and why was Scrooge so outraged by this offense that he used his resources to unperson her?

This episode answers none of those questions. In fact, that last question will never be answered because the clues were clearly created before the writers had finalized the answer. The one answer about the Spear of Selene that fans get in the episode titled "The Spear of Selene" is that it's not literally a spear possessed by the Greek moon goddess Selene (who may or may not be an aspect of Artemis).

So that's a drag. But the rest of this episode is an engaging and thoughtful adventure in a Greek myth sandbox. The use of the mythology is well-researched and provides an adequate playground for Donald's emotional journey.

Donald's traumatized disdain for these zany adventures is heartbreaking. Unlike much of the Della Duck mystery, his trauma throughout the season becomes more emotionally gripping when you know the truth. He's terrified of losing his kids to the peril that took his sister away. He doesn't want to engage with the adventure, but here he is forced to confront the reality that the kids will only be in more danger if he doesn't.

While the final moral is awkward and tacked on, Donald's journey carries this entire episode.

15. Sky Pirates... in the Sky!

It was a bold decision to reinvent Don Karnage as a flamboyant musical troupe leader. He's still a malevolent pirate leader who kills his own men if they let him down artistically, mind, but his piracy is committed through an over-the-top music number. That's good fun.

Don Karnage is both the high point and low point of the episode. When he's in control, he's menacing and vicious but also silly and absurd. During the brief time when he's the victim of a mutiny, he's ridiculous in a way that's less funny and more embarrassing.

The message of the episode is about communicating needs - both conveying needs and listening to the needs of others. But the execution is muddled and there are a few places that feel like another draft was needed.

Ultimately, the story isn't phenomenal. However, the production values make the episode well worth a watch all the same.

14. The Infernal Internship of Mark Beaks

This episode starts off with a lot of promise. The first half is a clever satire of corporate culture. Huey sets out to work hard and make a name for himself in the business world, but his efforts are undermined by his rival Louie Dewey for some reason.

Dewey connives and schemes, working the people around him rather than the job he was hired to do. To Huey's frustration, this pays off. Dewey is promoted above him into a management position because Beaks likes the cut of his jib, despite not doing an ounce of real work.

It's a neat story criticizing the culture of corporate management while also taking shots at other things like Silicon Valley's reliance on hype culture. However, despite firing these shots, the episode is ultimately unwilling to condemn the things it's poking fun at.

The episode ends with Dewey defending himself and Beaks to Huey, making the mind-numbing argument that it's okay for people like them to rise to success on little more than a cool personality because that allows them to compete with hard-working people like Huey. It's among the dumbest statements ever made in the show and it deals irreparable harm to the message that had been made up to this point.

Wow, That was Pretty Good!

13. The House of the Lucky Gander

Now we're getting into the good stuff. The intended message of this episode is that although fortune and privilege can be an avenue to wealth and success, it is ultimately unfulfilling when compared to success earned through hard work and diligence. The flaw in this message (and Louie and Scrooge's arc in the season, for that matter) is the assumption that hard work and diligence is rewarded with wealth and success in our modern day.

However, accidentally buried in that flawed message is a salient point about the indivisible role of uncontrollable circumstance in people's fortunes. Scrooge is baited into gambling his fate on a contest that he and his hard work have no possible way of influencing the outcome of. Instead, it's all left up to Donald.

Donald is presented as the embodiment of hard work and diligence, opposite Gladstone as the embodiment of privilege and luck. We're told that Donald (and by extension hard work) has never beaten Gladstone and luck before. But this once, just this once, Donald's hard work carries him through!

And then Gladstone gets rewarded with the prize anyway when Scrooge tricks the demon holding them captive. Donald winning is a big deal for him but for Gladstone, it doesn't even matter because he the universe won't let him fail. He loses the contest and gets the prize anyway.

The actual takeaway from this episode is that the world is full of Gladstones. Some people are born into success and insulated from ever facing consequences. Through no merit of their own, society won't let them fail no matter what they do, and no amount of Scrooge's vaunted hard work will ever bring them down. And they are every bit as insufferable as Gladstone Gander.

12. From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22

Here, we're getting into the good stuff. This episode serves to flesh out the backstory of one of the season's most mysterious characters. Not Della. Not Magica. No, it's Mrs. Beakley, the mysterious housekeeper with a secret agent past who raised Webby.

DuckTales has a lot of great villains and the one-off (until season 3) villain Black Heron is no exception. Her brutally sincere demeanor complements the absurdity of her ridiculous plans, allowing her to make exclamations with a straight face like, "They'll be bouncing here and there and everywhere! Mass destruction that's beyond compare!"

Speaking of which, a surprising amount of the episode is spent tying in a reference to the Disney Afternoon's Gummi Bears cartoon. It's a bold decision that pays off in hilarity for anyone who catches it.

While all of that is going on, the episode has a strong emotional story about Scrooge and Webby connecting for the first time. Up to this point, Scrooge has largely been neutral towards Webby, treating her as one of the boys but rarely interacting directly with her. That all changes here with a heart-melting story in which Scrooge accepts Webby as part of the family in earnest.

There's just one problem with this episode and it's a big one. A decision was made to present Scrooge as a hapless everyman who sucks at adventure. In both past and present, he is thoroughly incompetent and must be carried through the action by Mrs. Beakley and Webby, contributing little. This greatly hurts the episode. It's a bizarre decision to make for a character like Scrooge; he's a man with few positive merits, but throughout most episodes, his knack for adventure is unquestionable.

11. Terror of the Terra-Firmians

Lena's arc takes its first major step here in a story about being judgmental. Webby's hanging out with a local delinquent and Mrs. Beakley does not approve. There's an element of classism between Mrs. Beakley's posh ivory tower disdain and Lena's runaway delinquency that highlights the conflict over Webby's new friend.

At the same time, the episode serves as a first look at what will be Lena's arc: the tug of divided loyalties between what she wants and what Magica wants. Later episodes will build in that pull, but this one asks the biggest question: what kind of person is Lena?

The other plot is about Huey judgmentally dismissing the existence of the Terra-Firmians as unscientific. This is where the episode drags. It's not a bad concept, but Huey is played as overly aggressive to the point that it hurts both the character and the story being told.

10. The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck

There are two stories that take place through this episode. One is the climax of Lena DeSpell's entire character arc through the season. Lena has, to this point, been coasting on the idea that she can both have Webby's friendship and fulfill Magica's plans. She doesn't want to have to choose.

Here, at last, the truth is laid bare. Her twin goals are mutually exclusive. Releasing Magica would necessarily destroy her relationship with Webby. Though the tense and mind-blowing battle with Magica happens through an artifact-induced dream sequence, the impression it leaves on Lena leads her to the critical juncture where she makes her choice and severs her and Magica's plans once and for all.

Unfortunately, Lena just resolved her arc in a suspenseful and emotionally powerful climax the likes of which the intended season finale cannot compare to. However, "The Shadow War" still needs to happen. Thus, Magica spontaneously develops new powers so that she can lash Lena back onto the rails of the plot. Yay.

The other story is a bit of action concerning the Triplets trying to protect a conniving Sasquatch from Scrooge. It's an interesting premise undermined by an unnecessary plot twist that weakens the story's credibility.

End result, Lena's story is easily Top Five material, but is brought down by the rest of the episode surrounding it.

9. The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains

Goldie O'Gilt. The Catwoman to Scrooge's Batman. I'm not fond of the archetype but it's hard to dislike Goldie's sheer force of personality. As the show's femme fatale with all the baggage that entails, Goldie can easily rub me the wrong way, but it's hard to care about that whenever she gets a chance to interact with other characters.

This episode is non-stop Goldie. The cast is trimmed down to little more than Scrooge, Goldie, and Glomgold. It was a gamble, predicating the entire story on the idea that Scrooge and Goldie will be interesting enough and likable enough to carry a full episode just by bickering with one another. But it worked.

This is Scrooge and Goldie's story through and through. It's our intro to who Goldie is but it's also about how her existence influences Scrooge's decisions. It's a window into the mind of a man incapable of forming healthy relationships for fear of compromising his precious wealth and the weird frenemy dynamics he's developed as a result.

It's about a back-and-forth feud between Scrooge and Goldie that Goldie ultimately wins. And as she walks away with her prize, Scrooge can only laugh and applaud her boldness because it was never about the money. Competition is simply the only way Scrooge knows to engage with people socially. And that's fascinating.

8. The Secret(s) of Castle McDuck

This is another episode with two storylines, but for the first time on this list, neither story is bad.

There are points worth criticizing about the Triplets' plot. The demon dog is a forced bit of action designed to put a gun to their heads and force them to reconcile under penalty of death. It's also a Liar Revealed plot for the drip-fed Della mystery that didn't need to be drip-fed or have a liar to be revealed.

But despite these problems, the boys' camaraderie in working together and solving problems with their respective skillsets is great to see. Also, while I disdain the arc that brought us to this point, the emotional gut-punch in the Liar Revealed scene is well done. The heartbreak in Louie's voice as he airs Dewey's betrayal kills me every time.

The other arc is about Scrooge and his disapproving father Fergus. The story starts out making Fergus seem like an unpleasable dick before diving into a heart-wrenching re-examination of how Scrooge got his Number One Dime. Capitalism runs in the blood for McDucks but when Fergus accuses Scrooge of taking too well to capitalism and abandoning his penniless parents, the audience feels it. It's a hard accusation to rebuke and it sets up a heartwarming acknowledgment of wrongdoing and reconciliation.

7. Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System

What do you get if you put Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, Gyro Gearloose, Mark Beaks, and Launchpad McQuack in a can, shake them up, and then spill them out over a twenty-minute episode? You get a grand old time.

A lot happens in this episode. Fenton is introduced. Mark Beaks unveils a new tech that makes Gyro jealous, only to turn out to be stolen Gyro tech in a genuinely surprising twist. This results in a dire threat that is well foreshadowed and gives Fenton a chance to become Gizmoduck for the first time. All while Launchpad tries and fails to replicate the famous story of John Henry.

None of it is especially impactful or dramatically powerful which is why this episode isn't further up the list. But it's one of few episodes where all of the pieces click together with little issue. There's no friction in the messages or characterizations. It's not the greatest story the series has ever told, but each little piece of it comes out to a solid "good".

A Masterpiece of Storytelling

6. The Beagle Birthday Massacre

The episode that gave us Lena DeSpell. The way this episode plays with expectations is phenomenal. Lena is introduced as a slice of life antagonist. She's the cool kid, the edgy kid, the kid with a hint of danger and mystery.

Right from the start, it feels like Webby's being set up for a brief infatuation, only for Lena to leave her holding the bag so that she can learn a lesson about who her real friends are. But that's not where the story goes. In fact, shame on you for even making that assumption upon seeing Lena. "Terror of the Terra-Firmians" will see you after class.

Lena is not a slice of life antagonist after all! She really was trying to be Webby's real true friend this whole time. Right up until the episode pulls the rug out again to reveal that Lena is, in fact, an adventure plot antagonist!

That last twist is the brilliance of the episode because it changes so much of the context. Lena's behavior through the episode is a strong depiction of a predator. It's something you only notice on the second watch. She targets Webby as soon as the Triplets are away so that she can build a rapport with her, then seeks to tear down Webby's opinion of the Triplets so that she'll emotionally rely only on Lena. She fails, but the effort is there and it's chilling once you know the twist.

Of the entire Lena DeSpell arc, this is the one and only episode in which Lena is full-on a villain. And what a villain she makes.

5. The Missing Links of Moorshire

I've often said that Scrooge as at his best as a character when he's being used to antagonize the other characters. He's awful enough as a person to be an easy source of social conflict, while having just enough redeeming qualities to justify being in the kids' lives. When I say this, there are two episodes that I think of.

When I say that, there are two episodes that I think of. This is one of them. Scrooge takes it upon himself to teach Dewey the game of golf. However, when Dewey excels at it, Scrooge becomes bitterly jealous of the positive encouragement he receives from the family.

This is an episode about toxic mentorship. Scrooge mentors Dewey in bad faith. He wants Dewey to learn the game, but not to excel at it. The very suggestion that Dewey might one day surpass him causes him to feel threatened, at which point Scrooge turns mean.

This subject matter cuts deep. Most of us will meet a toxic mentor like Scrooge at one point or another. It can be a parent, a teacher, a friend, a lover. There are many shapes and forms a toxic mentor might arrive in. But the result is always the same: damage to the relationship and damage to the love of the activity.

The one thing holding this episode back from a higher point on this list is that it's ultimately aimed poorly. The message falls squarely on Scrooge's shoulders. He's forced to learn not to be toxic in his mentorship. That's good advice but it misses the point of telling this story in children's media. The story advises Scrooge to stop being toxic but it has no advice for Dewey on how to escape a toxic mentorship. That's a messaging flub when the kids watching this are more likely to be Dewey than Scrooge.

4. The Impossible Summit of Mt. Neverrest

This episode is one of only a few in which it feels like every character involved has a story to tell. Not just something to do, but a narrative of their own. There are three storylines running through it. Dewey teaches Webby to sled, Louie avenges Launchpad's ice fever, and Huey dukes it out with Scrooge over endangering the family out of unchecked egotism.

Dewey and Webby use their subplot to deliver a rare but valuable lesson for the kids watching: you will not enjoy every new activity that you try and that's okay. If your friends don't like an activity that you love, that's okay too. Trying to force an activity down someone's throat won't change their mind.

This is the other episode that I think of when I say Scrooge makes a good social antagonist. "The Impossible Summit of Mt. Neverrest" draws a parallel between Scrooge's ambitions and Huey's. This forces Huey into a position where he must learn the value of humility from seeing Scrooge's arrogance in action, then culminating in a showdown where Huey must persuade Scrooge to see reason just as he has.

3. McMystery at McDuck Manor

This episode provides a thought-provoking Whodunit mystery featuring twists, turns, and a Who's Who of likable recurring DuckTales antagonists.

The Beagle family doesn't get to do much of interest this season. For the most part, they serve as what I've termed fill-in villains. If you need some action to spice up the episode that isn't in any way relevant to the plot, throw in the Beagle Boys. They're always available as context-free Bad Guys Doing Bad Things.

This was the one episode in the entire season to flesh out the Beagle family as interesting characters. It gives Ma Beagle a solid hook to the story of the Duck family for the first time, and it places this introduction right alongside the ever-delightful Mark Beaks and Flintheart Glomgold.

The handling of the mystery and ultimate (multiple) reveals show great care in the art of mystery writing. There are ultimately three true culprits in the disappearance of Scrooge McDuck. All three are technically guessable with the information presented, but easily overlooked due to being beyond suspicion.

Well, Scrooge himself is easy enough to guess. However, Black Arts Beagle is quickly dismissed as a suspect and Duckworth, though brought up in conversation several times, is literally dead. The true answers are present in the clues, but in a way that doesn't necessarily look like a clue. This is the key to writing a good mystery.

2. Jaw$

Like "The Missing Links of Moorshire", this episode delves into some heavy subject matter. Magica DeSpell is more than just a big villain; she's Lena's abusive parent. This episode talks about the influence that abusive parents have over a child's ability to empathize with and connect to other children.

That's the heart of the episode. Lena wants to trust, but her ability to do so has been damaged by Magica's abuse. She's been torn down and made to believe in an uglier world than the one her friendship with Webby represents.

What I love about the character of Lena is that she's not a villain (except in that first episode). She's a child of a villain. She's had a distorted worldview engrained in her by her cruel parent, but she's still a fundamentally good person. She's a victim, pure and simple. The show doesn't say her victimization made her strong, nor does it say that her victimization made her cruel. It just is.

Jaw$ is all about that victimization. It has a supremely heavy subject matter that it handles with about as much grace as can be expected from a kids' show. Webby can't make Magica go away. All she can do is offer Lena a hand of love and support, but Lena must find the courage despite her abuse to take it. And she does. And it's great.

This is not a perfect episode. The writers fudge the proximity of the mansion to the Money Bin to make the plot work. The Triplets and Launchpad are along for the ride just to get eaten and raise the stakes. But it does have a B-plot where Scrooge is subjected to a humiliation conga and then loses lots of money. What more can you ask for than that?

1. The Last Crash of the Sunchaser

This is a perfect episode.

The kids finally get the answers of Della Duck's fate that the show's been dragging its feet on all season, and they get those answers by... well, doing what they should have done from the start and just asking Scrooge.

This episode is every bit as calamitous as its factually incorrect title implies. The entire premise of the show is turned on its head. Remember what I said earlier about not shining a spotlight on the Necessary Weasels? Mrs. Beakley shines that spotlight, but with intent not to defend the Weasels but to tear the premise in half by calling them out as indefensible.

The kids work together to achieve their mutual goal, resulting in action as goofy as it is tense before the dramatic confrontation between Dewey and Scrooge occurs. When it does, it takes a hammer straight to the feels.

The truth is complicated and messy with no clear bad guy (though Donald is the clear good guy), and it tears the family apart. Scrooge flies off the handle into the worst parts of himself while the kids sling unfounded accusations at him due to their hurt over his genuine guilt. It truly feels like there's no going back from the damage this secret has inflicted on the fabric of this family.

There are many things I would change about the Della arc if I could. But the only thing I'd change about this episode is its placement in the season.