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A Fowl Tale
by Master Mallard, mind controlling mutant duck and leader of the Dastardly, Uncontrolled, Chaotic Kooks
Summary: An episode from my memoirs. And an answer to the 'Duck Challenge'.
Notes: I don't own the rights to any of the A-Team. I think they belong to Cannel and Universal. I, on the other hand, belong to
myself. As it should be! This is an educational experiment, so learn something!! Comments are encouraged but may well be ignored.
It started innocently, like most disasters. I was a young drake, with no cares. Then they showed up.
I was diving for water plants when they brought their boat close to where I was feeding. The tall skinny human was jabbering cheerfully. The husky black dude didn't seem as happy.
"Shut up, fool!!! Shut up! I won't be able to hear Hannibal's signal if you don't shut up!"
"Ok, ok. I'll be quiet. You won't hear a word from me! Silence! Like a stone! Not a word. I'll lock my lips and throw awa.... ghhhh"
When the other man released his neck the skinny man settled into a sullen silence. He pulled out a plastic bag and started to munch quietly. He spotted me and smiled.
"Hey, ducky, you want some?" He threw some small fish shaped things into the water.
I had never tasted anything like them before. Cheese isn't something you find in most lakes. I later found out they were called 'Goldfish' crackers. I enjoyed them very much. Little did I know. But for the moment I took them as friendly gifts. He threw more in, giving a few nonsensical quacks. We enjoyed each other's company for a short time. Suddenly, a sound burst forth. Like a mating call, or a danger call, or somebody with their tail feathers stuck in bear trap. It was pretty darn awful! But it galvanized the humans.
"That's the signal!!" Whispered my 'friend'.
The big man started to turn the boat toward the sound. Suddenly, shots rang out! Two soggy and excited men came, half swimming and half running, toward the boat. The shooting continued.
"M.P.s?" asked the big man.
"Duck hunters!" answered the silver haired man as he threw himself into the boat.
The other man hauled himself into the boat. His expensive hunting clothes were wet and muddy and his hair hung in his face. He wasn't pleased. Bullets whistled overhead.
" 'Piece of cake,' he says. 'All we'll do is snap some pictures of the still and hand them over to Amy. No problem!' Of course, that's if we don't end up in orange sauce!!"
"Relax, Lieutenant! We'll be out of here in minutes!" The shooting continued. The local hunters were tenacious, if nearsighted. "BA, get us out of here!"
"BA! Wait!" The tall man scooped me up. I was too surprised to resist. "All right, BA, go!!"
It was not the smartest thing I ever did, staying on that boat. But the hunters were still out and the safest place to be was usually where they were aiming. So, I stayed on the boat.
We stopped at the other end of the lake. The baseball capped one carried me to the shore. The white haired man lit a smelly stick of vegetation.
"We have to get close to that still. Face, get us an air boat!"
"Okay, I'll need Murdock's help." The pretty boy said, reluctantly.
We set out across the bank toward the boat docks. I still trusted my skinny cohort. As we approached the rental office, Pretty put on a pair of glasses.
"Follow my lead."
We entered the office. Pretty shook his head.
"Man, Oh, Man, we need your help!"
"What?" Asked the rather ugly clerk.
"I'm Lyle Hammer, of Fish and Game. We need one of your boats to get this goose back to its breeding ground."
"That's a duck."
"I know it looks like a duck, but it's actually an Argentinean Fauxgoose. See, you can tell by the marked foreshortening of the
lateral pinfeathers. It's an endangered species."
I must confess to quacking a bit, in disgust. 'Fauxgoose' indeed!! Skinny bribed me into silence with a handful of those cursed crackers.
"It wandered down to the lake and is in danger of being shot by mistake. I'm afraid there might be more. We need to get out and
check. Our boat broke down. I'm afraid that I don't have my credit card with me. Could you loan something to me on credit?"
"I'm afraid not, buddy. Cash on the barrel head."
"Oh, dear. I guess that we'll have to close this area for hunting. These little guys must be protected."
"Closed for hunting? Man, I can't afford to lose the business! The season's when I make most of my money!"
"Sorry, Federal protection, you know. If we could do a quick search and take any we find back to their breeding grounds, we could avoid the necessity. But without a boat ...."
"Okay, I'll lend you a boat. I'll throw in the fuel. Just don't close the lake! I've got kids!"
We met the others by the shore. They had collected a pile of pipes, sheet metal and assorted other bits of scrap.
"Okay, guys. Lets get this done!" The old guy chirped.
They welded. They hammered. They twisted and bent. When they were done, where the boat had stood was a monstrosity of metal. It had a canon and a battery of smaller 'guns'. These were loaded with the sticky mud from the swampy sections of the lake. They were propelled by air pressure from three large tanks. There was a turret where the old guy could sit and fire his machine gun, while the others manned the Goop guns. The big man took the helm and we took off at high speed towards the enemy.
I should have known better, but the excitement was too much for me. It was compelling. My heart sang! My every muscle danced to a new cadence! My heart beat like thunder! It was like great music, pulling me forward. It was like... it was like... well, you know.
There was a camera mounted on the front of the thing, set there to catch proof of the illegal distillery. Kind of a 'still' camera. Qua qua. . ahem. We blasted into the enemy camp with mud slinging. The moon shiners tried to fire back, but the mud and goo clogged their weapons. And 'messed up' their 'tidy' little plans. Qua. . . , yeah. We careened into the camp. Skinny and pretty boy leaped onto their prey. I joined in the attack. More than one villain was 'Fauxgoosed'. We took them all out and the old guy cackled like he was laying an egg.
"I love it when a plan comes together!"
After we had tied them up and taken pictures of their operation, the big fella gave a shout.
We leaped back onto the boat.
Skinny pushed me gently off the craft.
"Sorry, Ducky, it's too dangerous!" He then dumped the rest of those fell crackers into the water. And I, in my innocence, began to feed.
They sped away. I didn't see the other boat; I was too busy feeding. Suddenly it was upon me! It smacked me solidly and sent me spinning. The soldiers on the boat didn't even look back to see if I was all right. I wasn't. But I knew what had happened. It was a conspiracy! They were all in on it! Skinny, Pretty boy, the big guy and Grandpa! The soldiers! The crackers!!! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!!!!!
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