Duck scratched the white feathers standing up on his head with his palm-like wings, and a trace of wistfulness flashed through his world-weary eyes.
"Alright, glad to know that, but what does it have to do with me?"
The black-hearted Egghead abruptly changed the subject. Squinting at Duck, he asked, "You were arrested today for driving without a license. As far as I know, this wasn't your first time. Haven't you thought about how to solve that?"
"Damn American politicians! They're just wasting taxpayers' money!"
The mention of it infuriated Howard the Duck. He felt like a ball being kicked back and forth among government departments.
Usually, applying for one document required several other documents as proof. The root of the problem was how to prove that a duck was a person—and that he was himself.
Was that something a person could do?
So the moment it came up, he was wide awake, pouring out his grievances to Nick Fury. No matter what, S.H.I.E.L.D. had to have more options than a lone duck like him, right?
And that was exactly the effect Fury wanted.
He had anticipated this long ago. Anyone who had been inexplicably tossed into a police cell dozens of times would have felt resentful, especially when it involved the social system itself. That was even more despairing.
Since Howard the Duck insisted that he was a person, his thoughts when faced with this situation would be no different from a human's.
Wronged, helpless, angry, stifled.
And identity was what Duck desired: an identity, the fundamental desire to be acknowledged by others.
Desire made things easy. For the king of spies, exploiting other people's desires was the most basic beginner's skill.
"Actually, you're thinking about this the wrong way, Mr. Duck." Fury pulled a small notebook from the