Post by Finn on Aug 14, 2008 19:45:31 GMT -5
Tomfoolery Gone Afowl
The Thursday Night Epic
It was bright, the sun shone down upon the GTA, and we small citizens drank the warm rays up as they poured over us. I was on a journey, a mission - A mission of employment. It was 8:30 AM and I retained the solid energy of 4 hours of sleep. résumés were printed, the upkeep of my standard of cleanliness was maintained, and I was on my way out the door. The sun beamed at me, a smile upon its face, unaware of the terrible pun it had invoked. I made my way towards the bus, and then to the center of Mississauga.
10:30 AM. I had met up with my accomplice Archibald* within the crowded confines of Square One in hopes of distributing our résumés in the name of potential employment. This part of the story is ultimately irrelevant, yet sets the oncoming theme of depression and disappointment. Suffice to say, we failed. Lacking self-confidence, we simply could not bring ourselves to approach the intimidating shop keeps of such prestigious stores such as Chapters and Coles. We gave up, ate, then proceeded to the bus terminal, the great transportation congregation. On to the green and watery Port Credit it was in hopes of pleasure and grand times.
By this point we were disheartened and distraught, this insight into the likely failure of our adult lives was something we could not deal with. Naturally our reaction to this societal rejection was to wreck shit. Archibald's* slingshot was secured and a bag of marbles was purchased at the meager price of $0.49. We then phoned our criminally inclined acquaintance, Bailey*. We promptly met up with Bailey* in hopes of developing and executing a plan involving the slingshot and ammunition. The weather had other plans, and in Port Credit - when it rains, it pours. Archibald*, being the mystical queer that he is, simply could not cope with the rain and headed home, leaving the grand slingshot with Bailey* and myself.
And now begins the story. The main event. The rain was light at this point, yet persistent. We would not be dissuaded by such a feeble attempt by the gods. Towards the cess pool known as Lake Ontario we headed in hopes of finding an animal or two to harass... and when we found these animals, how glorious it was; An entire flock of ducks, numerous geese, and at least 7 swans swam and tread in front of us just beyond the slicked rocks. The snipe-show began, yet the god of war Odin was not with us. Our aim failed, our deadly pebbles dwindled, and our hopes of causing minor pain to feathered pests began to flee. One marble remained - the King of marbles, the extra large beast they packaged among the 20-odd within the bag. I held this orb in my hand, the weight of death ready to be released. In one final and desperate act we decided to move elsewhere to a closer sniping location. We found a spot that could not be anymore ideal. No less than 8 feet away from me tread a mother duck and her numerous young waterfowl.
The climax. I loaded the heavy glass sphere into the sling, pulled back the tethers with my fullest effort, held my aim steady, and released. In the blink of an eye the group of ducklings dispersed, leaving only a panicked mother and straggling child behind. The young duckling's head was submerged underwater, it flailed wildly in small circles trying to recuperate and brings itself to the surface. The mother circled her youngling in a desperate panic, quacking in a fury and unsure of what to do. There was thunder and lightning.
I was distraught. I had dealt a serious and fatal blow to the young duck, it was not my intention to take a life this day. As if I had evoked the anger of nature itself, a torrent of rain began to pour down upon us.
The duck stopped flailing. The mother gave up and swam away. After a few nervous twitches of the leg, the youngster floated in dead stillness. Bailey* retrieved two sticks and brought the duckling to the sand, where we would examine it. The scalp was peeled away, the soft gelatinous skull was split open and in full view. A devastating wound that was likely accompanied by a shattered spinal column. We could not decide whether to celebrate or to repent. I smothered the duck in sand, and stuck a stick upon the burial mound as a sign of my sorrow. It continued to rain, lightning flew across the sky.
We regaled Archibald* with our tales over the phone and then decided it was time to retire to our homes. An eventful and exhausting day. I did not embellish this story in any way, other karma oriented details were omitted in the hopes of making this a more concise story.
And now... the photos.
The end.
edit: if it wasn't clear, I feel like an asshole and regret attacking the duck
*Archibald is an alias
*Bailey is an alias
