I know it's early, so forgiveness is sought for the following evidence of derangement of my, sadly, few remaining brian cells. And your patience. This tale is not yet completed, but ideas rudely crowd and await assembly into English. Or some recognisable form of it. A current thread re CAA Bah Humbug attitudes has prompted an irresistable urge to splurge this tale prior to the intended international release. Or escape, if you prefer.
Can't wait to see how it finishes.
Conveniently, if not oventually, in three very short episodes.
With acknowledgements and apologies to Hans Christian Andersen, Frank Loesser, and just to be on the safe side Danny Kaye. Only for the first paragraph though.
Cast: A Duck, suffering from Frozen Anal Retention Trauma
(acronym to be avoided when in the company of student
nurses), commonly known as Vent-Axia
A Country Gentleman, with a curiously sharpened sense of self-
preservation
An Extra.
Opening scene: A duckpond.
Episode 1.
There once was an ugly duckling, who didn't like Christmas at all. It came and it went, right up until Lent, and all the way through to the Fall. It seemed.
He thought it was a complete waste of time. In fact he would spit feathers whenever the subject was brought up. And if anyone dared to mention Cranberry Jelly he would just go quackers.
One day, just before Christmas, he was approached by a country gentleman who looked somewhat different to your average country gent. Bigger than him and wearing a long down-to-the-knees overcoat which could easily be mistaken for a grain sack it was so shabby.
But it was cold, so excusable.
"I say Sir, you are a fine young speciment of your kind if I may say. You have the honour to represent the Mallard of the species I do believe and I heartily congratulate you on your fine plumage. Quite remarkable.
Episode Two.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am, quite undeniably and beyond any doubt whatsoever, Sir, the Hon. Reginald H. Sperkerville. I can see, Sir, that you are suitably impressed. Kindly allow me to suggest that you contain yourself for a moment longer. Before you say 'Yes', I pray do first listen (do ducks have ears?) to my proposition as it may well be to your advantage".
"I see you have the good fortune to live on yonder pond but have to forage, in these lean and pitiful times, for a meagre living on the mosses and detritus you scavenge by almost drowning yourself at your every mealtime. I have a proposal to put to you Sir".
"I am a resident of a landed estate not too far from here. I have my own grand lodge. I have servants to see to my all my needs for sustenance and well being and I want for nothing. Indeed Sir, I am extremely fortunate in my existence, except for one thing. I have a great longing to angle. Not to lean, nor to slope, nor to bamboozle. Merely to angle, for fish. 'Tis a hobby I have longed to engage in, and therein lie the seeds of my proposition".
"I am here to offer you Sir, the priviledge of exchanging our two residences for one single day. I would rest my weary bones perching, I beg your pardon, relaxing, at your waterside retreat for just one day while you Sir, would sample the delights of fine living presently at my disposal. What say you Sir, does that not strike you as a fine bargain?"
Episode Three.
Our ugly duck was taken with this wonderful prospect of fine living, even if only for one day.
He agreed at once, fearing his new best friend would find another, perhaps better looking, duck.
The country gent was overjoyed, virtually gushing with gratitude, and arranged to come to the pond the following day to guide the duck to his house and garden.
The next day the two meandered down the lane to the large garden and through the opening in the wall to the well-appointed residence where the duck with great delight settled down on the nice dry straw. The country gent rushed off, no doubt, the duck giggled, to go fishing.
Just then, comb and wattles a-wobble, a turkey poked his head around the door and ventured:
"Oh, hello. It's nice to have visitors on Christmas Eve".
"Quack?"
"Quack?"
The End.
Although it is early, may I be the first to wish to all the compliments of the season, a peacful time, and the company of family and friends.
Can't wait to see how it finishes.
Conveniently, if not oventually, in three very short episodes.
With acknowledgements and apologies to Hans Christian Andersen, Frank Loesser, and just to be on the safe side Danny Kaye. Only for the first paragraph though.
Cast: A Duck, suffering from Frozen Anal Retention Trauma
(acronym to be avoided when in the company of student
nurses), commonly known as Vent-Axia
A Country Gentleman, with a curiously sharpened sense of self-
preservation
An Extra.
Opening scene: A duckpond.
Episode 1.
There once was an ugly duckling, who didn't like Christmas at all. It came and it went, right up until Lent, and all the way through to the Fall. It seemed.
He thought it was a complete waste of time. In fact he would spit feathers whenever the subject was brought up. And if anyone dared to mention Cranberry Jelly he would just go quackers.
One day, just before Christmas, he was approached by a country gentleman who looked somewhat different to your average country gent. Bigger than him and wearing a long down-to-the-knees overcoat which could easily be mistaken for a grain sack it was so shabby.
But it was cold, so excusable.
"I say Sir, you are a fine young speciment of your kind if I may say. You have the honour to represent the Mallard of the species I do believe and I heartily congratulate you on your fine plumage. Quite remarkable.
Episode Two.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am, quite undeniably and beyond any doubt whatsoever, Sir, the Hon. Reginald H. Sperkerville. I can see, Sir, that you are suitably impressed. Kindly allow me to suggest that you contain yourself for a moment longer. Before you say 'Yes', I pray do first listen (do ducks have ears?) to my proposition as it may well be to your advantage".
"I see you have the good fortune to live on yonder pond but have to forage, in these lean and pitiful times, for a meagre living on the mosses and detritus you scavenge by almost drowning yourself at your every mealtime. I have a proposal to put to you Sir".
"I am a resident of a landed estate not too far from here. I have my own grand lodge. I have servants to see to my all my needs for sustenance and well being and I want for nothing. Indeed Sir, I am extremely fortunate in my existence, except for one thing. I have a great longing to angle. Not to lean, nor to slope, nor to bamboozle. Merely to angle, for fish. 'Tis a hobby I have longed to engage in, and therein lie the seeds of my proposition".
"I am here to offer you Sir, the priviledge of exchanging our two residences for one single day. I would rest my weary bones perching, I beg your pardon, relaxing, at your waterside retreat for just one day while you Sir, would sample the delights of fine living presently at my disposal. What say you Sir, does that not strike you as a fine bargain?"
Episode Three.
Our ugly duck was taken with this wonderful prospect of fine living, even if only for one day.
He agreed at once, fearing his new best friend would find another, perhaps better looking, duck.
The country gent was overjoyed, virtually gushing with gratitude, and arranged to come to the pond the following day to guide the duck to his house and garden.
The next day the two meandered down the lane to the large garden and through the opening in the wall to the well-appointed residence where the duck with great delight settled down on the nice dry straw. The country gent rushed off, no doubt, the duck giggled, to go fishing.
Just then, comb and wattles a-wobble, a turkey poked his head around the door and ventured:
"Oh, hello. It's nice to have visitors on Christmas Eve".
"Quack?"
"Quack?"
The End.
Although it is early, may I be the first to wish to all the compliments of the season, a peacful time, and the company of family and friends.
