Thursday, June 20, 2013

Fat, Infertile Duck Refuses to Migrate

Maggie, the Texan Duck
Sources confirmed that a fat and infertile duck named Maggie, who usually returned to her Canadian breeding grounds for the past 5 springs has decided to skip this year's migration.

"Why bother," asked Maggie as she ate a piece of hot dog a dawdling electrician threw at her. "I fly way up there and obviously I'm not going to have any offspring. So what's the point? That's a shit ton of effort to fly yourself to Canada from Texas to watch other ducks give birth. This year I decided to skip it."

When asked if she thinks she will start a new trend of spending the whole year in her winter habitat, she shrugged.
"I don't know or care. Yes, it's hot down here in the summer, but for the past three years I swear the only cold breeze we get is when we're actually in the air flying. As soon as we land in Canada at that lake, boom, it's like a thousand degrees again. So, this whole migration thing has been a let down. Like, we can't fuck and have ducklings at this lake?"

Maggie continued by saying that she didn't have any plans to fly north again. Ever. That many injured ducks don't make the trip out of necessity, and actually, she's been getting laid more now than ever.

"Once all those breeding ducks are out of the picture, I've kind of got my pick of the rest. No, they aren't the cream of the crop, deadbeats that they are, but beggars can't be choosers."

Maggie excused herself as a group on picnic arrived and tossed some bread to the ducks.

"All this eating and lack of exercise is sort of killing my figure, but that's the way it goes. Something's got to kill me, but it won't be a random collision with a helicopter or power line. I'm happy here and they'll have to bag me up and take me to the dump. Heck, I've got some mottled Mexican duck friends who are trying to get me to go to Cancun for the winter. If I can lose some weight to fly again then I might join them. They say it gets crowded in the winter but you've got the whole beach to yourself in the summers."

At press time Maggie had waddled off through a crowd of pigeons and began to muscle her way toward a slice of stale  white bread.


Anonymous said...


Oggy Bleacher said...

Gumshoe, you were right. I'm broken in a million pieces. I'm moving into the telemetry department and that's my last stop in the oil field. In fact, this heat makes me insane and bent like a wilted flower. I'm really finished. No energy to write. No energy for anything. I need 20 years of recovery in Mexico. This summer will either kill me or ruin me or I'll survive and buy my guitar and die. Nothing good is going to happen. I'm sorry I can't keep this up. It's a bleak time.

Anonymous said...

What have you done to yourself, Drake!??

You need to pull yourself together!

Your father and I accepted it when you came home last winter and announced that you were becoming a female. You have to give us some credit for that. Many ducks of our generation would have kicked out their son for less than that. But this time, you took it too far, young man.

I will not have you sinking into this "residential" lifestyle. Just look at you, begging for food… You are obese by any Waterfowl Fat Score standard! And I hate to tell you, but that processed human food hasn’t done any favors for your complexion, either.

So you don’t want to migrate? Fine! You’re a modern day duck. We can accept that too. But at least get your act together. Build yourself a nice little roost. Try diving for your food in something other than a dumpster. One of these days, you are going to find yourself on the business end of a County Animal Control net and that will be the end of all this nonsense!

Your father and I are worried about you and we are at a loss of what to do. We think you should come home.

- Mama Duck

MAGGIE!! said...

Dear Mama,
Of course I could not expect you and dad, plodding Republican drones that you are, to understand and support my decision to refrain from migrating. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. When I dated that Mallard from Alberta you said I could do better. That worked out real good! And when I got that fishing line lodged in my throat all you could do was tell me that I should not have been hunting minnows at night. LIKE IT WAS MY FAULT!

Your opportunity to support me has long passed like the clouds over a Nebraska wheat field. If I want your opinion I'll look up "critical" in the dictionary. Sure, the fucking Animal Control folks will hunt me down. WHO DO YOU THINK FEEDS ME? What century do you live in? Mexicans love animals. The biggest health threat I have is my blood pressure when you nag me.

I'm going to do exactly what suits me. No, I didn't give you hundreds of grand-ducks like my eleven brothers and sisters did. Sorry we all can't be breeders with mindless hormones suffocating every habitat we ever encounter. But I tried to be true to my own inner nature and you can't even support that. Whatever. It's exhausting...and the heat has me thinking crazy thoughts. You do what you want and leave me alone.


P.S. bring back some of those Canadian snails I like. Send them to my new address in Cancun.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.