Plot
Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck are enjoying a nice, leisure swim in the lake. But they are being watched behind the SCHOOL sign, by Truant Officer Donald Duck. He has a duty to uphold: to make sure all kids are in school.
He captures the nephews and drives them to the schoolhouse in his truant officer van. While he endlessly goes on about the importance of a good education, the boys pull out their pocket knives, managing to cut themselves out of the van and make a run for it. Donald notices the back of his van is gone and he chases the boys to their clubhouse.
Donald tries to get in, but fails. He jacks up the clubhouse to load onto his van, but the boys manage to reverse the jack so it comes back down on top of Donald. He tunnels out and decides to smoke the boys out. Meanwhile inside the clubhouse, the boys are cooking three chickens over the fire when suddenly they notice smoke pouring in. They decide to beat Donald at his own game. They put the chickens in the bed and escape through the roof. Donald peaks inside to see if his ploy had worked, and sees the three cooked chickens in the bed and thinks the boys were cooked alive.
Donald is very beside himself. Then, Huey disguises himself as an angel and is lowered into the clubhouse. He manages to kick Donald in the rear. The second one causes him to fall and his disguise falls off. Donald finally captures them and takes them to school. But in a twist ending, as they reach school, Donald is shocked when he notices that school is closed for the summer holidays. The nephews give him an angry glare and Donald literally shrinks from embarrassment over his mistake.
Read more about this topic: Truant Officer Donald
Famous quotes containing the word plot:
“The plot was most interesting. It belonged to no particular age, people, or country, and was perhaps the more delightful on that account, as nobody’s previous information could afford the remotest glimmering of what would ever come of it.”
—Charles Dickens (1812–1870)
“The plot! The plot! What kind of plot could a poet possibly provide that is not surpassed by the thinking, feeling reader? Form alone is divine.”
—Franz Grillparzer (1791–1872)
“James’s great gift, of course, was his ability to tell a plot in shimmering detail with such delicacy of treatment and such fine aloofness—that is, reluctance to engage in any direct grappling with what, in the play or story, had actually “taken place”Mthat his listeners often did not, in the end, know what had, to put it in another way, “gone on.””
—James Thurber (1894–1961)