Magica frowned as she looked Donald over. "Hm... you've worn him all out! He won't be up and ready for ages!"

Poe winced, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Dearest apologies... but, well... you yourself kept going on about how good he is."

Magica sniffed, indignant. Her toys were not to be ripped at the seams so easily. So instead of having her own turn with Donald, she just took his head and draped it on her lap. "Until you can take better care of my things, I'm not leaving you alone with him."

Poe resisted an urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, sister."