Where Have All the Ducks Gone? 

PARODY ADVISORY *Please note that this article is part of the Ranchor (the Anchor’s satirical edition)!

Glass shattered, furniture disheveled, feathers, feathers everywhere! The ducks, geese, and ganders are gone! It seems that the taxidermied birds on display on the third floor of the Science Center have come alive! But were they ever really dead to begin with? The birds have scattered all around campus and the like, roosting in dorms and waddling downtown. 

“There’s a mallard in my shower.” One Dykstra resident told the Anchor. 

The Anchor had the feathers analyzed, and upon further investigation, the ducks were actually cryogenically frozen. “It’s really quite remarkable,” a duck-expert told the Anchor. “Some unknown chemical reaction must have unfroze their cells.” One large concern is the Giant Canadian Goose on the loose; it’s been spotted eating squirrels and menacing small children. “That is one silly goose,” a Holland resident reported. Others, though, are not viewing the bird escapade with such humor. “This is so ducking ridiculous,” a downtown store-owner complained. “These birds are crowding the sidewalks with feathers and ectoplasm.”

Wait– ectoplasm? 

Quack, quack… 

What’s that? 

“Quack, quack–”

***

Three days have passed since the initial bird escape. The entire town of Holland has fallen under the horde of poltergeist ducks. A state of emergency has been enacted– each student must roost in their dorms until further notice. 

“The ducks– they took him!” One Durfee resident reported, mourning the loss of his roomate. “They waddle outside our windows, quacking and hissing at us.” Sources are telling the Anchor that the number of birds has multiplied three times its initial amount. The sky goes dark, filled with their oblong bodies and devilish wings. The streets are littered with nests and eggs. 

More students have been reported missing; some have been spotted as hostages in their nests. No one is safe outside of their rooms. 

***

Two weeks have passed. Campus is dark and dull. There is no silence, just constant quacking. 

“Get it out of my head! Get it out of my head!” One student repeated, rocking back and forth. This condition is undoubtedly unsustainable for what’s left of the student body– there is a small sliver of Hope. “We have to take back what’s ours,” one student remarked whilst huddled in a janitor closet. “We need to avenge all that we’ve lost.” The Anchor partnered with Phelps Dining Hall to aid in this effort. Together, thirty-three pounds of moldy bread has been collected, and packed into multiple boxes. 

“It’s time to feed these ducking birds.” 

(Featured image source: Pickpik)