I’m witnessing a DuckRape.
Those were the words said to me this morning by my closest friend.
Her next words: “You have to come see this. It’s horrifying.”
Me: I just want to make sure we’re clear.You’re asking me to come to your house so that we can watch ducks have sex? Can we not afford good porn?
Susan: You make me sound so cheap.
Me: Moving on, you want me to drive over to your house to watch something so horrifying you’ve termed it rape?
Susan: Yeah.
Me: Okay.
What? You people think my days are so full of work that I don’t have time to watch ducks schtup? Like they say, “there’s never a reason to miss ducks getting laid.” Wait, is that what they say?
I thought it would look something like this.
But it looked more like this.
Half hour later: HOLY CRAP! First, let me explain that she wasn’t kidding or even exaggerating. If you’ve ever seen Mallards or their cousins, the Muscovy ducks, mate – and frankly, who hasn’t – you’d know of what I speak. The drakes are like boys at a frat party gone wrong—very very wrong. I swear one of them quacked, “No means Yes.” Well, it was “Quack, Quack, Quack,” but he said it with the same intonation (He then shot-gunned a beer and smashed the can on his beak).
As I watched with disturbing fascination, these guys just pecked at the female, attacked each other, and took turns attacking the female until she relented. It’s like my husband any Saturday night he doesn’t eat himself into a food coma. (So, like, once every couple of months.)
I walked up to the female, let’s call her Daisy, and said, “Look, I can get video of the whole thing. This will definitely hold up in court, and we’re gonna see Donald behind bars in no time. We’re talking heavy, metal, cage bars. I’ll represent you if I have to. I don’t think a duck trial would be too complex. I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing like a kangaroo court.”
I took her lack of response to mean she didn’t trust my legal abilities. “Yeah, well, good luck getting a better lawyer. Most of them are busy with Lindsey Lohan. How about this – just let me call Florida Animal Control, and I’ll have him removed from the premises.”
This time, I took her lack of response to mean that I should give it a try. She was also pinned to the ground, so I thought a bit of creative interpretation was called for.
Operator: Animal Control. How can I help you?
Me: Yes, I’ve witnessed a heinous crime in the animal kingdom, and I need you to come and remove the offender.
Oper: Ma’am what are you talking about, do you have a gator?
Me: No. I have a rapist duck.
Oper: What kind of duck is it?
Me: Why does that matter? Do you discriminate against certain types of ducks?
Oper: Is this a serious call?
Me: Yes. It’s a Muscovy duck.
Oper: I’m sorry ma’am. We don’t deal with animals that aren’t indigenous to Florida, and Muscovy is actually a breed from Mexico.
Me: And you have a thing about Mexican Ducks? What, do you think they’re taking all the jobs from American ducks or something? How horrible, this poor duck crosses the boarder for a little clean agua, and next thing you know she’s flying with a fast crowd, a gang attacks her, and she has no recourse. It’s just like West Side Story, but with less dancing.
Oper: Ma’am, I’m hanging up now.
Me: Wait, is there a Mexican Animal Embassy I could call?
Oper: Lady, that’s how ducks do it.
I especially love the operator’s last line because she was so serious throughout the conversation – calling me ma’am and such – even though it was said in an accent straight out of Deliverance. But she ended with “do it,” not “mate” or even “have sex.” I wanted to be like, heh… heh-heh, you said, “do it,” but she hung up too fast.
So, I got directly into my car. I couldn’t even look Daisy in the eye, mainly because I promised to put her old man on Dragon Pearl’s menu, but also because she’s really ugly. Seriously, have you ever seen those Muscovy ducks? If there was a lesson to be learned from the “The Ugly Duckling,” it’s that people really do hate ugly ducks.
So, I got home and googled “DuckRape.” It didn’t say “Did you mean duct-tape?” No, it actually gave me pages of studies on duckrape and the forced copulation habits of ducks. But, this was my favorite find. This is what Isabella Rossellini is doing now: Yes, she actually says the line, “Ouch ouch, one of them is raping me… I don’t care.” THIS VIDEO WILL LEAVE YOUR JAW ON THE GROUND… SERIOUSLY.
http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1745093298?bckey=AQ~~,AAAAAGLt-No~,6QdLGNH5aG59AJPlSJdu6OKXtcxLbX9d&bctid=77813783001
Oh, that happened. You should know, you watched it. You sick perv, you. Gives new meaning to “Fuck a Duck” right?
Who would have thought you’d be learning so much about duck sex today? Probably not you. And yet here you are, looking at a video of Isabella Rossellini’s duck vagina.
So what’s the message here? Don’t move to Florida if you’re an animal who’s not a native species. Maybe try California – they’re pretty liberal. We’ve also learned that ducks frequently get raped, but there’s no such thing as consent in the animal kingdom… so technically it isn’t rape.
PS thank goodness for the “no consent” thing. If animals could withhold consent I’d feel pretty guilty about eating them.
Oh, and lastly, the beautiful Isabella Rossellina is now doing animal porn.
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