There once was a man who wanted to be a duck. He dreamed of floating in the water, eating bread, and harassing small children who wander too close to his pond. He tried strapping on a bill and wearing arm floaties in the tub as practice but it just wasn’t the same. He learned to swallow food whole without chewing and to prune his nonexistent feathers. When he was ready, he ventured into the town pond, nude of course, as ducks go commando in the wild, waddling on the shore and floating carelessly on the still water. He had achieved his dream, but come winter he faced a new challenge. His fellow ducks were migrating but alas he could not fly. He built a set of wings, snorted a line of duck cocaine for energy, and flapped his wings like a mad hummingbird. Taking off to the sky, he soared in the sun, his glued on feathers shaking in the wind. But his journey was cut short by an avid game hunter who saw the odd creature and wanted it for his den wall. With a crack the duck man crashed down, but with a small smile as he died an honorable duck death. Quack quack

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