Duck Attack – Paranoia #44

Posted on October 11, 2011

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All of my dinner guests are asking why I am so frantic. They want to know why I am so pale and exhausted. The truth is that I had planned this dinner for months and intended to have duck. Now the duck has escaped to the top of my cabinets and I cannot get to him. That the duck escaped my boiling pot of water is not the problem. I easily whipped up a killer macaroni and cheese, despite taunts from the duck the entire time I prepared it. The problem is that I like to keep a clean kitchen and now there is this duck up there waddling around and quacking obscenities. I just know he is planning to live their forever which makes no sense. There isn’t even any water up there, I tell the duck. I’m not prepared to host a duck habitat, I tell the duck. He just cusses at me in a quick series of sharp quacks. I have a very sharp cleaver that I am thinking about throwing at the duck, but I am not gifted athletically and will probably miss and the cleaver will probably fall down and take my big toe or even worse my small toe, and you know what they say about men without a small toe.  Or is it men with big toes? I don’t remember. I hope the duck continues to give me only metaphorical shit and does not leave any droppings.

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Posted in: Year 1: Paranoia