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And now for something completely different. Episode #2:The Duck's dystopian dreamscape

by David Hume III

Once upon a time, long ago and far away, when rural areas were large and cities were small, there existed a farm where green rolling hills were surrounded by thick forests traversed by sweet water streams. It was a pleasant place inhabited by wild creatures of every variety.  Some had fins, some had fur, and others had feathers. They were of every shape, caste, and color. 

Among the more exotic species were the hairy Hobgoblins, green Grumblers, blue-haired Grinches, and polychrome Finches. Every now and then, a ring-tailed Throp or a Trumpette-mouthed Oger-o could be seen, sunning themselves in the open areas of the forest or among the cows and horses in the pasturelands. Early each morning, through the low-hanging fog, the screech of the gilded Gazzpazzers could be heard for miles. The animals of the farm lived in harmony with those of the forest. Then one day, this idyllic life vanished. 

The climate and the cycle of the four seasons changed. It rained continuously, turning the once pristine hardwood and pine trees into a dark forest the farm animals called the Swamp. Stands of dead trees dotted the water-logged landscape and the place was thick with mosquitoes, ticks, leeches, carnivorous reptiles, and the aggressive night-feeding Glowrillas.

This area became inhabited by groups of disenchanted animals who secretly assembled a force of refugees from cities and sewers, from kennels and coops to band together with other animals who shared their beliefs, frustrations, and anger. They called their new home, MAGAdonia. As the years went by, they organized themselves into groups and selected a leader who vowed revenge against their natural enemy, the Democrats, whom they considered an elitist, subversive group who enjoyed the sunlit grasslands and fresh air while they were relegated to the fringes of the dark forest and its mosquito-infested Swamp.  

Their leader was white Pekin duck who preened himself continuously to hide the bare, areas of orange skin on the top of his head that had been laid open by time. He was known simply as, “The Duck.”

The Duck waddled to the top of a rotting tree stump and glared at the noisy crowd.


“Listen well you forlorn creatures for what I am about to tell you will change your lives. I will make our land and every one of you great again; and rich, so rich that you will be bored by the lives you will lead, amazingly, yugely rich! From now on, it’s MAGAdonia First. Only I can fix your problems with the poisonous migrant leeches. Your allegiance will be to me alone!”


The crowd screamed for more and began chanting, “Hail The Duck! Hail The Duck! Build the wall! Destroy them all!”

And his tirade continued, “This is evil, sick, and sad. They want to take your freedom, and only I can stop this from happening. They fear us! They fear us!”

“Lock them up! Lock them up!” the crowd chanted, “Build the wall, screw the cost, send them home, they are lost!”  


The Duck pranced about the moss-covered tree stump, bathing in the adulation with his head cocked to one side, striking a pose perfected by Mussolini the Mandrill. 


A short distance away, two piglets, Mario and Luigi, watched the event. Mario leaned toward Luigi and said, “If he wants to destroy his enemies, couldn’t he do so without destroying democracy?”

“Silence!” grunted Luigi, “The Duck offers you security and economic stability, and all you can do is complain about losing a bit of your freedom?”

Mario continued, “If we trade our freedoms for security, we’ll have neither freedom nor security. If false statements are not challenged, then they will pass as truth. The Duck rules by fear and intimidation! The Duck is a Schmuck!”

Luigi gasped. “Your mother must have fornicated with a Democrat!” he squealed.

to be continued…

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