Walkin' Duck Re-dux, Ahem

 

It didn’t arrive with flashing lights. There was no imposing flyover. But there was a sound like water in a huge plastic pipe that seemed to emanate from all directions!

It looked more like a stove top espresso pot than anything else the observers could describe. It rose out of Puget Sound near the beach at Mukilteo. It allowed itself to drip for a few moments and then touched down in the parking lot. It re-oriented in a horizonal fashion and the door opened.

The awe-struck watchers waited. They swore later they heard a laugh track. Then the Walkin’ Duck strolled out onto the door’s inside surface.

The True-B-Door of Space-n-Time had arrived, and he had a tale to tell, or a tail to pull. Unclear. He looked Fabulous! Imagine a diamond dusted black duck with various odd technical devices around his person. (applause please!)

(To Wit) 

THE CAUTIONARY TRUE STORY of THE NINJA HAMSTERS vs 

THE HORRIBLE JACKALOPE 

As told by

 the Walkin’ Duck 

The village of Doubtful Flats was being ransacked, looted, and terrorized by a monumental Jackalope named Floyd by his doting mama. He took what he wanted and kept no prisoners. Where would he have put them anyhow. He was travellin’ light!

He had a low taste for Gummi Bears and Cheetos. As you can imagine there were struggles. A man or a woman will fight for their Gummi Bears and their Cheetos. Many a warrior fell in those days.

At last, a call went out to the Black Force. It was a hard decision to reach because of the fear that very name invoked. But the message was received, it induced pity in the Black Force. Of course, the messenger had been a darling little girl with tears in her eyes. The Villagers sent a child because for one thing the Black Force castle was small. Even she could only get her face in the doorway.

The Ninja Hamsters made an awful plan. They reckoned that fifty of them would be enough to kill the Jackalope.

Spies had ascertained that this Jackalope’s burrow was across the river in Snohomish under a very large Maple tree. They decided to finish him there- at his safe place! Poetic Justice! 

While Floyd was pillaging where the pickings were good, the Black Force shinnied up his Maple tree in dire black garb armed with sharpened safety pins, (ironic, no?) and re-sharpened razor blades. They thought about strings to slide down because that makes a very cool scene but decided finally to just jump Floyd. He was fluffy after all and would make a soft landing.

The evening of the day of battle came. Floyd did too. His belly distended; he lopped up to the Maple. Just then fifty Ninja Hamsters in Black Garb leapt out of the Maple onto his back, avoiding his rack carefully. The Black Force minced him! His death cries were horrible, but no one gave him succor! This was justice, swift and pure!

The townspeople of Snohomish and Doubtful Flats helped the hamsters drag Floyd’s corpse down to the Snohomish River where they gave him to that twenty-foot Sturgeon that haunts the river, some say.

They had a dance that night, with feasting, bonfires, and amateur musicians. Peace was restored except for the normal level of nonsense.

*** 

That gurgling noise started up again. The duck walked back into his espresso pot. It righted itself. It rose into the air over the waves of Puget Sound and wafted away like a hot air balloon more than anything else.

No one who had seen the Walkin’ Duck could ever forget him.
His given name was Wallace, by the way.