Greater Ducktopia!
At Duck HQ, the main building boasted the finest reeds in Duckdom, bound together with a unique cement made from enemy feathers and river mud. General Desmond Thwackery surveyed the parade ground from his office window, observing rows of ducks in crisp uniforms, their bright red feet marking perfect formations. As the soldiers awaited orders for the final leg of their Quest to find Tag Tinsel, General Thwackery pondered how to inspire them.
“Private Norris stood in the queue that stretched out before him. There must have been a hundred ducks ahead of him. He thought it might take twenty minutes to get to the front, but it would be worth the wait. Roasted cracked corn was his favourite and he could stand and wait for a day if that was how long it took. He patted his rumbling tummy. Ahead of him was a group of dabbling ducks. They shouldn’t have been in the queue on a Thursday when they could easily go out onto the river and dabble just beneath the surface for food. They were treated with contempt by most of the others for being cowards too scared to dive. ”
Excerpt From
A Mission Most Fowl
Ryan Hasler Scott
Gavin and Gilbert enthusiastically followed their orders, permitted to use small explosives quietly for a limited time. Undeterred by the challenge of “quiet explosions,” they dove into their task with gusto. Their digging resembled a whirlwind, with shovels moving so swiftly that bystanders would struggle to keep up. Dust, dirt, and stones flew as the hole deepened, and the support team worked frantically to manage the debris. Upon reaching bedrock at four meters, the explosives aided their progress, and they resumed digging through softer materials. Brief pauses for photos and congratulations were interrupted by a reminder from a ninja, urging them to stay focused. Meanwhile, a team of worker ducks filled the hole with twigs and branches as part of their routine.
“Cross paths with the ninjas at your own risk! And remember, never underestimate the NINJAS!”
Under the veil of approaching darkness, they swiftly traversed the marshes in groups of four, with the first group vanishing into the night. Private Norris, Chief Assistant Paddle Maker (Second Class), found himself in group three alongside Lance, a percher duck from the communications team, and Vince, an Assistant Paddle Maker (Third Class). Despite being assigned to what was considered the weakest group, Tom, a highly trained Ninja, rounded out their team. Vince, thrilled to be working alongside a second-class paddle maker, reveled in the opportunity despite his lowly rank. In the workshops, there was strict segregation between trades, and Vince’s role as a third-class paddle maker was to ensure materials were prepared for the others. Tom, growing increasingly irritated by Vince’s incessant chatter, had already reprimanded him twice. However, Vince’s curiosity persisted, repeatedly questioning their progress and arrival time. Unbeknownst to the group, Vince harboured a secret longing for adventure and excitement.
