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this is from a bulletin board, so its a little crazy...The real reason we
put this up is because "Squackle" is in it. Try to find it!
:
: :
: : : :
: : : : : :
: : : : : : : Ducks as FOOD?? QUACKQUACK! SQUACKLE! Blades?? Sharply-honed?
QUACKQUACKQUACKQUACKQUACK!!!!!!! OH! OH! Oh, MY!! *running in circles faster
and faster* ACK!! QUACK!! Run for your lives, fellow ducks!! Run far, run
FAAAAAAAAST!!! QUACKQUACKQUACKQUACKQUACK....pant, pant, pant,
pantpantpant...GASP! *THUD!!!!*
: : : : : : : *dead silence...a very blue in the beak Miss Paddletale lies
flat out on her feathered backside in the middle of the Village Green*
: : : : : : ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
: : : : : : What's this?? Miss Paddletale passed out, blue in the beak, from
one of her hyperventilated, skyisfalling attacks, and NO ONE is going to
help her?? No mouth-to-beak resuscitation? No slapping of her little feathered
cheeks until she comes around again? Tsk. Nothing but a spiteful remark from
the GnomeDome about being glad someone ELSE is in trouble?? How uncharitable!
How uncivilized! How perfectly...PREDICTABLE!! Mohicanland...ya gotta love
it! Only here can a fat, waddling duck wearing a blue calico bonnet, be lying
passed out in the middle of the Village Green, and no one pays the slightest
attention. Guess I'll have to fly down to the river & get some cold water
to dash in her face...though carrying it back one tiny beakful at a time
sure won't have much of an effect, sartain...but what else can I do???
: : : : : : *exasperated sigh*
: : : : : : Birdie
: : : : : Wait! Wait! Fear not! Doctor M is on the way!! Let me load
: : : : : 'er into this baking di...I mean, Special High-Sided Metal
: : : : : Stretcher, and take her to the Clinic. I think an immediate
: : : : : application of slooow steady heat is what's called for --
: : : : : say about 325 degrees for 3 hours. Now where did I put
: : : : : that recipe for Wild Gnome Dressing???
: : : : : Doc M
: : : : ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
: : : : RUFF! RUFF! SNAP! Growwwlllllllllllll. Get yer hands off that duck,
Doc Mary, or we are gonna have a serious disagreement, and it's not gonna
be "one of these days". SNAP! We'll see about who's gonna get their duck
cooked here! Hands off, I bark! I'm gonna crouch right here and protect Miss
Paddle Tale until somebody comes to get her. She's a FRI'ND, d'ye hear?
Grrrrrrrrr-RUFF!
: : : : Hector
: : : Fear Not Hector!!! I'll save her! Here I come to save the day......*singing
in horrible voice sounding like a parakeet in a blender*
: : : I will take her away from all this....hang on!
: : : CRASH! CLATTER! *as the spit gets caught between GnomeDome's legs and
he drops blue enamel roasting pan he had hidden behind his back*
: : : GnomeDome
: : ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
: : Somethin' strange about the Gnome comin' to rescue Paddle Tale and carryin'
a roastin' pan just like the one Doc Mary had. My scents tell me there is
an ATTITUDE here, and I don't trust their SINcerity. I think I'll just catch
her up by the nape of her neck and sneak home with her while they're all
scramblin' after their cookware and stumblin' over each other. She Who Tracks
will know what to do for poor Miss Paddle Tale.
: : GRAB! LIFT! Zoooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmm.
: : Hector
: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
: Say there, Hector - where ye been all this time? And what's that ye got
in yer mouth? Don't tell me ye actually brought home dinner all by yerself
for a change?
: *Shake of the hound's head*
: No? Then, what have ye got there? Looks to me like a plucked chicken all
ready for the stewpot . . . but still alive and wigglin'.
: *Shake of the hound's head*
: No? Well, then if ye don't intend it for dinner, ye'd better drop it afore
ye break it's neck. Ye know I've taught ye better than to talk with yer mouth
full!
: *Thud. Soft whine. Lick, lick, lick. Softer whine.*
: What? Lemme take a closer look here. Why! If it isn't Miss Paddle Tale,
all limp and pantin' and missin' most of her feathers - she's been through
some kinda scuffle, sartain! And ye brought her home for pertection and nursin'?
Good dog! Ye got a kind heart and a gentle way about ye, for all yer lazy,
chicken'hearted appearance. Well, now. We'll just see what we can do for
the poor duck. I'll lift her over here on the soft bearskin and get her some
grain from the sack. If ye'll push yer water dish over here in front of her
where she can reach it, I'll be bound she'll appreciate a sip o' water to
wet her whistle. She seems all weak and shakey, too. Can't imagine what could've
happened to her. There, there, Miss Paddle Tale, ye're among fri'nds now.
Just lay yer plucked little head on my knee here, and I'll stroke yer bristly
little hide until ye fall asleep. There, there now.
: She Who Tracks
*Meanwhile....Randy Doc Mary ponders a mystery. Many of her Huron "patients"
have quivers full of newly fletched arrows.
She has noticed several of the high falutin' ladies who were part of that
group trying to run her outta town sporting new feather quilts. She eyes
the well used and flattened pillows on her "couch" and wonders how all these
folks have come by their new possessions. She attempts to loosen the tongue
of her current "patient" with a few extra ministrations and a free tankard
of rum.......*
And Bill R, having gone from a week of summer like mid 70 degree weather
is now shaking with winter chills. The temperature has dropped to the 20's
and 30's, the water has frozen in the dog's dish, and what the heck is winter
doing here with St. Patty's Day just around the corner. GET MY GUN! I am
gonna shoot me a certain groundhog! And where can I get some of those
feathers...as I could sure use a new quilt myself!! Dang it!
Bill R
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