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The Little White Duck
By Mr. Satanism ONCE UPON A TIME there was a little white duck who was very sad. He was sad because he could not get pectoral implants. Because of this, the little duck thought that he was a wimp. One day, the little duck was walking by the pond with his friend, Mr. Bullfrog. Mr. Bullfrog wasn’t really a bullfrog, he was just a regular old frog frog. But they called him "Mr. Bullfrog" because he was full of it, if you catch my drift.
Anyway, Mr. Bullfrog was saying “I remember back in ‘76 when I was out cruisin’ with the Sex Pistols and we were all blasted on coke and they wanted to introduce me to the lead singer of some band they knew, ‘cause she was a frog, too, ya see…” “That never happened,” said the little duck. “You were only born this spring. How could you have done anything in 1976?” Mr. Bullfrog got angry. “Are you calling me a liar?” he croaked, “Why, I oughta kick your butt, you wimp- but you’re not even worth the trouble!” As soon as Mr. Bullfrog called the little duck a wimp, he (the duck) began to cry. “Wak-wak boo-hoo,” he cried. “Wak-wak boo-hoo Mr. Bullfrog found this particularly annoying, so he hopped home to watch something on the Fox network. After a time, the little duck stopped crying, but he still felt sad. So he went to see his friend, the Ant. While “the Ant” sounds like he might be a bookie, or maybe some sort of rap musician, he was really just that- an ant. Ant lived by himself because he was a little red ant, and most of the red ants had died when the other ants gave them blankets infected with smallpox. Ant was the little duck’s best friend. Ant used to have another friend, Grasshopper, but they had had a falling-out. Ant used to work and work, while Grasshopper sang and danced. This went on for many months. One day Ant said, “When winter comes, you will be sorry you played and didn’t work, Grasshopper!” And Grasshopper said; “This is southern Florida, winter never comes.” So Ant killed and ate him. When the little duck got to Ant’s house, Ant was reading an old copy of “Fate” magazine and drinking his favorite mixed drink, a grasshopper. “Bitter irony!” he would laugh. “Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HA!”
Sometimes the little duck worried about Ant. When Ant saw his friend he began to wave. “Duck!” he yelled, “Duck!” Suddenly a golf ball hit the little duck in the head. “I told you to duck,” sighed Ant. “I don’t care if I get hit by a million golf balls,” said the little duck. “I don’t even care if I get hit by a million million golf balls.” “That’s a lot of balls,” agreed Ant. “What is making you so sad?” he asked his friend as they hid in the high grass from the irate golfer whose ball had hit the little duck and then rolled into the pond. “Shit!” said the golfer. “Dammit!”
“I’m sad because Mr. Bullfrog called me a wimp,” the little duck told Ant. “If only I had pectoral implants! Then I could beat him to a pulp and say something clever.” “Like ‘I toad-ally kicked your ass’?” asked Ant. “Exactly.” Ant thought and thought, but he could not figure out what the little duck could do about his problem. Finally he said, “Perhaps you should ask the owls. They are the wisest birds around the pond.” Actually, Ant knew that the owls were a pair of cantankerous, senile pains- but he was getting bored with the little duck and wanted to get back to his drink. To Ant’s relief, the little duck said; “That is a grand idea! Thank you, Ant!” And off he waddled towards the old owls’ tree on the other side of the pond. What a jackass, thought Ant. The little duck walked for a long time, all the way around the pond. He could fly, of course, just like any other duck, but in addition to being weak the little duck was a tad dim. When he reached the big old tree on the far shore he saw the two old owls asleep on a branch. He was filled with awe and fear.
“Look at those hooters,” he said. “I’m just a little duck, they will never help me.” But the little duck was determined to try, because it was certainly easier than fighting his own battles. “Wise owls!” he cried. “Oh, wise owls! Please help me!” The owls looked down at the little duck, hoping whoever had woken them up would be small enough to eat. But the little duck was too big. “What is it?” sighed one of the owls. He was tired of all the animals around the pond always coming and bothering them. “Mr. Bullfrog calls me a wimp and I can’t pummel him and then say something clever because I don’t have pectoral implants!” “Something like ‘You won’t frog-get that beating’?” asked the owl. “Exactly.” “Perhaps you are a wimp,” said the other owl, “or you wouldn’t need implants.” And this made the little duck cry again. “Wak-wak boo-hoo,” he cried. “Wak-wak boo-hoo, This went on for some time. “God, that’s annoying,” said the first owl. “Think of something so he’ll go away,” said the second. So the first owl said to the little duck: “I know who can help you, little duck. The pike who lives in the pond owes us a favor. If you swim to the middle of the pond and say ‘Pikey, pikey, “he will swim to the surface. Just tell him you are our friend, and he will help you.” Actually, the pike would come to the surface if you simply called his name, but the owl thought it would be funnier if the little duck made a fool out of himself. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” said the little duck. “Go away," said the owls. The little duck waddled into the pond and began to swim. He swam and swam. He could have flown but, well, you know. Finally he was at the very center. He took a deep breath and said “Pikey, pikey, Deep down in the water, the pike heard the little duck. "What the hell is he doing?" the pike wondered. So he swam up to see.
“What is going on, duck?” he asked the little duck. “Why are you yelling?” “The owls said you could help me,” said the little duck. “Mr. Bullfrog has been teasing me and I want him to stop.” “Mr. Bullfrog?” asked the pike, “The one who’s in the Senate?” “Grrrr…” said the little duck.
The pike thought and thought. Finally he said “Since you are a friend of the owls, I will help you. But they better burn those pictures now!” So the pike swam around and around the pond until he found Mr. Bullfrog, who was telling the other frogs about his days at Harvard. And the pike swam right up to him and gobbled him up. “Yum,” said the pike, who decided he would have to eat frogs more often, much to their dismay. “Hooray!” said the little duck. He was very happy. And best of all, he had learned how satisfying revenge could be. He decided that he would make many more enemies, preferably smaller than himself. He would start with Ant.
THE END
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