DO YOU REALLY LIKE IT BACK THERE IN POLITICAL 1492?
DAYINTHELIFEOFA CARPET
THE MARKETING OF AWFUL BEHAVIOR
DEFLATION DYSPEPSIA
DAYINTHELIFEOFA SQUIRREL
THE MISTAKEN VENGEANCE OF DUCK
In our pool sits Duck.
Duck is a member of the species Duckus Temperaturus Watchoutus Vengefulis, which comes from the fact that he was grafted at birth (or perhaps he was born that way) with a long blue thermometer extending from his belly. Duck is mostly bright yellow with some bits of blue (though his underparts are a little bleached – it’s the chlorine in the pool – but he doesn’t seem to mind). When Duck gets out of the pool (which is rarely and usually only once a year for his Winter hibernation in the Pool Shed) he sits on this thermometer – perches on top of it much as you or I might sit on the top of a 50ft telephone pole, which, as you will agree, is a good place to get a duck-level view of things. CEOs do that all the time, but those who can afford it make their companies buy a 50 story high office tower instead. That is called One- Duckmanship. It gives them a superior Duck’s view of things.
You need to know (or perhaps you don’t) that Duck demands danger fish whenever the pool temperature goes over 30, as he says it burns his feet and the foot cream he has to buy from L’Oreal costs a fortune because he has to contribute to Bettencourt’s Seychelles island when he buys it, not to mention the cost of extra pairs of Duckbans (which actually look pretty good sitting on his beak). Duck, I’d have you know, sulks sometimes when he does not get his way, or when the kids throw him into the pool from a great height and he lands in the pool thermometer-last and gets beak burn. That really miffs him and he can sit in the corner by the skimmer for hours or even days after a bad case of beak burn. He has no sense of humor.
Duck is quite opinionated. If he says the temperature is 30, then he is not to be contradicted. But he plays tricks. For example, when I read him he says its is 30 and when my wife reads him he says it is 29 (or 31, or anything but 30) and we both know we are completely right and the other one has rocks for brains and so
we go at it with burning insults and enough steaming words to raise the water temperature a comfortable five degrees which is what Duck prefers when he reads the Duckpaper.
Duck’s opinions go far beyond water temperature, though. For example, Duck very much likes a banker friend of ours called Pontus (if Pontus ever reads this, he will remember all about it). Recently Pontus thought he was coming to our area for a day, but might not have time to come to dinner. That got Duck in a most frightful Duckfuffle.
Duck sent Pontus a message (using me, as he refuses to get educated on computers and insists I do his duckmailing for him) and this is the message he ducktated:
“If” quack, “you do NOT come to visit me when you are in the region for a day,” quack “I shall drop the swimming pool and its entire contents on your local establishment, from a great height. Yours Quackously, Duck”.
I think that by “the local establishment” Duck means the local branch of Pontus’s bank which is a couple of miles from where we are. Pontus comes from Head Office which is in A-Nother Country. You know where that is of course.
A few days later
When Pontus was not heard of for a day at his normal office number, all Duck broke loose. Duck sent out Scouter Ducks to locate Pontus. One of them came back and went into a Fuddle (that is a feather huddle in case you are not up to speed on Duck) and after a few minutes of increasing outraged Quacks (from Duck I think) and tail-slapping the water, all Duck broke lose. This is the story of that living hell as I recounted it to Pontus afterwards.
There is a great deal of activity in the swimming pool this morning.
It is full of ducks.
The lawn is covered in feathers.
Apparently, one of Duck’s friends – a Scouter Duck - flew in early this morning and reported Pontus had been seen in the South of France
Duck flew into a rage, it is said, because Pontus had not come to see him.
Apparently he called DUH (Duck Union Headquarters) and soon afterwards, several hundred Heavy-Lift ducks arrived from all points of the compass.
Some TCDs arrived (Traffic Control Ducks) and set up a circling LRTCS patrol (Long Range Traffic Control System) at 5,000 feet to manage flight paths of incoming duck flocks Apparently, no birds can take off or land in what they call the OZ (Operations Zone) without their OK.
Several flights of Fighter Ducks are scrambled to make sure their orders are followed.
One duck that did not follow their orders got shot down trailing flames and burning feathers and fell through the plantain tree onto the terrace table in a shower of sparks, cooked and ready to eat. The SPLAT he made showered hot Duck grease over the geraniums. They didn’t like that, they said.
He might have had the consideration to land on a serving plate.
Now we have to clean the table.
So I guess we have duck for lunch.
If we have lunch.
The noise is incredible.
Several flights of cargo ducks dropped a number of deliveries of HLRs (Heavy Lift Ropes), one of which fell in the apricot tree and another of which is stuck on top of our chimney like a hat.
Sapper ducks are handling both these problems.
DCSF just arrived. (Duck Commanding Southern France).
All Ducks present saluted (beaks shut, beaks 45 degrees in the air, left wing at 45 degree slant downwards, right wing vertically in the air, tail straight, foot fingers splayed, not touching), while Drummer and Hornbill Ducks played Flight of the Wing Brigade by Johann Duckhoven). It was very moving.
Other ducks have attached HLRs to two corners of the swimming pool so far.
Heavily armed SDDs (Special Duty Ducks), armed with ABGSPs (Automatic Beak Guided Spitball Projectors) and PFGs (Putrid Fish Grenades) are guarding the ducks working on the pool and looking dangerous in their DVEEs (Duck Vision Equipment Enhancers).
I don’t know what this is all about but it looks really bad.