A recent post by Lisa got me thinking about ducks.

Back in college, two of my bestest friends in the whole wide world, Rick and Rich came to visit. Havoc was wreaked. At one point over the weekend, we were walking by a lake on the way to my apartment and there were a bunch of ducks. There was this mother duck who was walking by with all of her little ducklings not far behind. For some reason, Rich thought it'd be a good idea to step towards the duck in an attempt to scare it. I guess he just wanted to see what would happen. Well, for whatever reason, that set off a horrific chain reaction.

The mother flew only a few feet away, but must have quacked in an odd way, because just seconds later, a bunch of other ducks started chasing her. I am assuming these were male ducks, because there were about six of them that started to gang rape her. In front of her ducklings.

In defense of Rich, he didn't know that there were ducklings. He wouldn't have done that if he knew she had babies following her.

The best part was while the mother was being attacked, some dude in the dorm to the left of us yelled out, "You asshole!"

I just imagine there are a few adolescent ducks somewhere in south Jersey now, still traumatized by seeing their mom get gang raped. They are probably falling in with the wrong crowd, smoking cigarettes, maybe they turned gay. They are the asshole ducks that jump over all of the other ducks when you throw bread in the water. Or maybe (here comes the worst joke ever on this blog) they are quackheads. HA! Get it? Quackheads?! Instead of crackheads? See what I did there? Quack rhymes with crack. Ducks quack. They don't smoke crack. But if they did, perhaps they'd be quackheads. That's how I came up with that joke. It's awesome, right?

Anyway, who knew ducks could be so complicated?