Erik sat alone, contemplating life, the universe, and that damned gnat on his beak.
Bastard... If I had laser eyesight I'd annihilate you.He quickly ducked under the water, and upon re-emerging, the gnat was gone. VICTORY!!
Drown in the depths of the eternally-damned you wretched spawn!!!Erik continued floating, as was the daily routine. Sometimes he'd fly a little ways, land, fly some more, honk at inanimate objects that occasionally spoke to him, and just generally continue with his oblivious existence.
One day, he sat on a pond with several other ducks. In more ways than are obvious, a pond of ducks is much like a chatroom. Nobody knows each other, everyone wants to see breasts, and most attempt to demonstrate their intellect by showing an apparent lack of understanding for basic communication skills. Erik took no part in these activities, staying close to the shore and staring into the muddy depths wondering if, in fact, these things called "sharks" existed, and if so, why they refused to eat him. He furrowed a brow.
Then it happened: Across the pond, a mallard. But not just any mallard! The most beautiful, exquisite, and overwhelmingly hot mallard he'd ever seen in his life.
Bubbles suddenly formed from the water at her backside.
Duck farts. They're so blasted ambiguous.And then, with the force of a 80 megaton bomb being dropped on an Ethiopian midget, it hit him:
Holy shit... I'm a duck!Such a thought had never fully occurred to him. Oh sure, he quacked, flew, and floated all day. But a duck? No, never! A flying entity of sorts, yes, but surely much more than a simple duck.
Wow... I never- No, impossible! Well, I suppose that is
a beak... And it certainly has a quack-ish ring to it when I speak... Incredible!Erik honked gleefully, and swam around in circles. Life is good.