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What the Duck?! or Creepy Duck Facts
Oh Mr. Disney, how you've deceived us! Remember when I disillusioned you about the crapfactories that are mice? That was Mickey Mouse down. Now Donald Duck must go. That's too bad. I liked Donald a lot. Like me, he prefers to wear no pants most of the time and like me he--actually, I think the similarities end there. But anyway, I liked him. And I liked Uncle Scrooge, and Huey, Dewey, Louis tooey. Kindred spirits in the world of no-pants. Alas, all that must change. 'cause ducks ain't right in the head. Yes, friends, ducks are really creepy. Creepier than a stripper in an Ewok costume, creepier than your uncle who keeps trying to show you his dirty magazines, creepier than a clown peering in your window. Science has proven time and again that ducks emerged from Freud's subconscious after a particularly extreme night of binge drinking. Ducks do things that would make Howard Stern say, "Well, that's a bit extreme!" I'm not kidding you. This is your last warning: You cannot unlearn these things. If you read on, you will never, never be able to see ducks the same way again. (Foie gras, however, will still be delicious.)
Ducks Are Cannibals
Here's a real quote from a government website on duck-rearing: "Although cannibalism can begin in ducks of any age, ducklings over 4
weeks old are more prone to develop this vice." Okay, I'll just stop things here. I love how they refer to cannibalism as a 'vice.' Like, "Oh yeah, remember that Jeffrey Dahmer? He had quite a vice." A 'vice' is enjoying lottery tickets or eating an extra slice of pie, not eating an extra slice of your roommate. Back to the government advice, "The underlying reasons
for birds turning to cannibalism are not known, but it is associated
with boredom and is aggravated by overcrowding, lack of ventilation, faulty nutrition." Where to begin. Ducks become cannibals due to boredom. Boredom?! I didn't even know ducks could get bored. It seems kind of a high mental state for their kind. But even so. Boredom?! That's not an excuse. When you get bored, you watch a movie, do some needlepoint or something. Nobody has ever thought, "Damn I'm bored! might as well eat old Howard Delaney." According to the experts, however, that is how ducks think. Oh, and it can aggravated. So boredom is the main reason. But "faulty" nutrition (whatever that is) and a slightly stodgy atmosphere is enough to set them off on a cannibalistic murderfest. It gets worse. "The only known way to stop it is to remove the rim at the front of the bird’s upper bill." That's right: you have to cut off their mouths to make them stop eating each other. Apparently entertaining them somehow--hiring a magician or clown--doesn't work. Y'just have to cut off their mouths.
Ducks Are Rapists
First, a matter of terminology. I don't wanna use the 'R' word, 'cause that's just the sorta keyword that'll get me in trouble. So we'll just call it Surprise from here on out. And ducks, let me tell ya, are a very Surprising species. Here's what Cosmos magazine had to say, "Ducks, especially mallards, are one of the few species of birds in which males will often [Surprise] females, in a violent act which can result in injuries or death by drowning." You get that? Male ducks will Surprise a female duck to death. They're so keen to Surprise her, that they'll Surprise her in the water, where she drowns. Not only are they murderous Surprisists, but they sometimes throw Surprise Parties for female ducks. It isn't uncommon to see a female duck gang-Surprised until she's dead.
Ducks Are Gay Rapists
Moreover, ducks will sometimes Surprise their own buddies. Mid-flight, no less. Apparently one out of ten ducks live alternative lifestyles. Nothing wrong with gay ducks. Gay Surprise, however, is no better than straight Surprise. The mid-flight Surprises are called "[Surprise] flights." They involve attacking mid-flight until the Surprisee tires and Surprise can ensue. This is often done to females, but often enough is done to males.
Due to the relentless Surprise of being in the Duck Kingdom, duck parts have evolved into strange, contorted shapes, designed to resist Surprise impregnation. Y'see, female duck parts ("Duck Pie" from here on out) have become so accustomed to Surprise, that they've become a labyrinth of twists and turns, dead-ends and useless pouches, to prevent Surprise fertilization. So male duck parts ("Duck Wang" from here on out) have developed into freakishly-long corkscrew-like appendages that can twist their way deep into the Duck Pie during a Surprise. This means Duck Wang has to wait for Duck Pie to be willing and relaxed if its to fertilize those eggs. Apparently only four percent of Surprises successfully get through the Duck Pie to the eggs within.
Ducks Are Necrophiles
Okay, granted there is only a single known case of duck necrophilia, ("Afterlife Surprise" from here on out). But that just means the ducks are really good at hiding it. It's not the sort of thing you advertise, even if you're a duck. Dr. Kees Moeliker recorded the only known case of Afterlife Surprise amongst ducks. Not only was it a good, lengthy Afterlife Surprise, which he watched for a perversely long time, but it was a gay Afterlife Surprise, which he watched for a perversely long time. This master peeping-tom of the Duck Kingdom explained that a Surprise Flight was taking place when one of the ducks slammed into a window. The other duck decided, "Well, why waste a good opportunity?" and Afterlife Surprise ensued. And he watched for a perversely long time.
An Ode to Duck
In case you want to follow along at home, here's the poem I read in the video:
When Lucifer landed upon Earth's crust
From his vulgar left foot duck-kind was thrust.
For what wicked ways could Nature produce
That, which existing, is Nature's abuse?
The eye of science is raw and festers
When the secrets of ducks it sequesters
For private study and observation--
Observers, lament your occuptation!
Woe to thee, O Duck, foulest of all fowl,
Rapey bird, necrophile, at thee we scowl.
The song of the larks, the cawing of crows,
The hunting of owls are fit for fine prose
And poetry to move the genteel heart;
Eagles, herons, loons, grebes are all apart
From that poisonous beast, commonest bird,
Whose cosmic place is squamous and absurd.