Day 4: Invention Gone Wrong for @donro-week
Donald was jolted from his afternoon nap by what could only be identified as an explosion.
With a screech, the duck found himself hovering above the hammock for all of two seconds, trembling vehemently, before landing face-first on his pristinely-tended lawn.
He shoved to his feet, straightening his beak and taking a deep breath. After allowing himself a moment to calm down, he realized the most likely source of the chaos. A look to his immediate right, at his next door-neighbor and boyfriend’s house- the thick plume of smoke pouring from one of the windows- immediately confirmed his suspicion.
Donald wasted no time heading over. He wasn’t too worried. After all, lab accidents and backfiring inventions were a common occurrence for Gyro, as much as a genius as he was. But he always preferred to check up on him when he could, just in case.
As usual, the front door was open. Donald immediately covered his beak and set about battling the haze with his hat. “Gyro?” he called. “You ok?”
Gradually, the air cleared like an unveiling curtain, revealing the room looking like a disaster zone. In even worse shape was the charred, tattered state of Gyro’s clothing and feathers.
“Hi, Donald.” The blonde grinned sheepishly as he cleaned his cracked spectacles on his sleeve, and Donald wondered if he realized one of the lenses was missing. He turned away to cough from the remaining cloud of smoke. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
Donald folded his arms. “Do you mean your house or you?” he asked a touch sardonically.
Either ignoring or failing to notice Donald shaking his head in amused exasperation, Gyro added with a frown, “Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for her.” He bent and began examining the remains of what appeared to be some kind of robot, which Donald only then noticed in a sizable heap of wires and limbs beside him.
“Aw, Gyro, I’m sorry,” Donald said, moving in to help in whatever way he could. “You’ve been working on that for days. You had such high hopes for that Nanny-bot.”
Gyro gave a resigned chuckle. “Yeah, but maybe this is for the best. I wanted to invent a robot that could help new parents by taking care of all the unpleasant, laborious tasks of raising children, leaving them with only true quality-time to spend with their little ones. But I suppose Mrs. Webster was right- the cold hand of technology is no substitute for the warmth of a parent’s touch in every way.”
Mrs. Webster lived across the street; her son was only six weeks old, which had inspired Gyro to invent such a machine. And even though she strongly disagreed with his viewpoint, that hadn’t stopped him from setting out to prove that it really could be of great use; surely, there would be people who would benefit from it.
“She didn’t have to treat you like you’re some dangerous crackpot or a mad scientist,” Donald angrily muttered. “You meant well.”
“True, but it’s important to try seeing things from others’ perspective too. Failure is not only humbling, but it can help in that. I admit, I can get a bit zealous when I have a new idea.”
Those first two sentences were definitely something Donald had difficulty relating to.
They spent the next hour cleaning up the place, Gyro eagerly chatting about his next invention. Donald, on the other hand, was mostly silent except for the occasional grunt or nod of acknowledgement.
“Huh?” Donald blinked, snapping his head up at Gyro. He realized he’d been hearing him as if his head was submerged underwater.
“Are you all right? You seem distracted.”
A pause, then Donald softly frowned. “Well… it’s just that I don’t know how you do it, Gyro,” he replied, setting aside the broom. “You’re the kindest, most hard-working, and positive person I know. No matter how many times your inventions go wrong, or people treat you like a crazy menace or take advantage of you, you never let it get you down. You go about each day with a smile, you never so much as raise your voice, and you never give up. How do you do it? I can’t even experience my hammock folding up on me, or somebody taking the last carton of milk at the store, without losing it.”
Gyro set down the large box of Nanny-bot parts and took a seat at his desk, turning the chair so that he faced Donald. He thoughtfully rested his elbow atop the blueprint-swathed surface, hand against his chin. “Hmm, well, I suppose I just remind myself a positive life and attitude is born from the same thing- the thoughts I think. It’s those thoughts that determine how happy or unhappy I am. Don’t get me wrong, I get angry like everyone else; I’m not a machine. But even though I can't always change or control what happens to me, I can how I react to what happens. I just make a choice each time I’m faced with a situation.”
He held up a finger. “For instance, if an invention goes wrong, I frame it in a positive way. Instead of getting down on myself, I look at it as a challenge, which helps to keep me sharp, inspire me, and keeps the ‘ol wheels turning. And whether or not it’s salvageable, I also focus on all my inventions that were successful.”
“That… actually makes sense,” murmured Donald.
“As for how others see me, well, that’s definitely something beyond my control,” Gyro continued with a chuckle. “So, why waste energy on being bitter about it? I don’t like it- and I’ll be honest, it’s when I’m treated as a simple gadget-man that bothers me even more than when my inventions and I are misunderstood- but some people are just plain ignorant and others have a different way of looking at my inventions (and some views can be quite valid, such as Mrs. Webster’s). Again, I choose to focus on the ones in my life who do appreciate and understand me, as well as all the times my ideas have helped others; and helping to make a difference in the lives of others makes everything else worth it.”
A warm smile spread over Donald’s face. “Those are all the things I love and admire best about you, Gyro. I don’t know what you see in a hot-tempered palooka like me, but you make me twice as lucky as Gladstone.”
They drew in for a kiss. “As far as perseverance goes,” Gyro said earnestly, hands remaining on Donald’s shoulders, “you sell yourself short. No matter how bad things get, and I mean really bad, you keep going. It’s, well, almost ridiculous.”
Donald couldn’t help but grin back, blushing.
As they resumed cleaning, Donald asked, “Say, where’s Little Helper?”
“Oh, I gave him the day off. He’d been busting his bulb helping me on the Nanny-bot all week.”
“And were you planning on joining him after testing it?” Donald wryly asked with a sideways glance.
“Heh, well… you know what a workaholic I am, Donald.”
Donald reached up on tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “I guess you’re not so perfect after all.”
They spent the remainder of the morning curled up together in Donald’s hammock, soon lulled to sleep by the easy chorus of both their content purrs.
QOTD: What is your favorite thing about Gyro Gearloose?
Well, I pretty much answered that in this story. But when it comes to all versions of Gyro across media, it's definitely his perseverance and how he never gives up, no matter how many inventions of his goes wrong. His passion and pride for inventing is really cool!!
