Evil Alien Ducks

                        Evil Alien Ducks


         He could tell from the way they walked that the ducks meant business.
         Gamaliel sat lazily on the park bench, watching the purposefully approaching birds. They marched—and "marched" was the word for it—in a V formation, the head duck wearing a grey toupee of feathers, almost as if he were wearing a helmet. As it got closer, and Gamaliel could make out the medals pinned to its multi-coloured feathered breast, he realized that it was a helmet.
         Undaunted, Gamaliel calmly reached into the bag of shelled peanuts lying next to him on the bench, fished one out, and tossed it with his usual lack of restraint at the front duck.
         The peanut belted the duck in the face. "Ow!" cried the duck, lifting a wing to its eye. The other wing raised, bent at the end, and shook in a way that reminded Gamaliel of a shaking fist. "Fool! You shall pay for that indignity!"
         "Say what?" asked Gamaliel, now just mildly daunted.
         "Allow me to introduce myself, primitive Earthman!" said the duck, in a voice that was both authoritative and amusingly squeaky. "I am Lair-ee, king of the evil alien ducks! For eons, we have watched your primitive species exert your feeble attempts at dominance. But now, at last, your betters have arrived. Kneel! Kneel before the power of ducks! Evil, alien ducks!" He laughed maniacally, prompting the other ducks to follow suit, resulting in odd chorus of what sounded like popcorn popping while an elephant rubbed its derriere on a leather bean bag.
         It lasted for several seconds before petering out. Gamaliel and Lair-ee looked blankly back at each other for a few more seconds.
         "Now would be a good time for that whole kneeling thing," Lair-ee prompted.
         "What planet are you from?" Gamaliel asked.
         "Not important," Lair-ee intoned.
         "What?" Gamaliel scoffed. "Of course it's important! I mean, if there's intelligent life on other planets, that's a major scientific breakthrough! So where are you from, the Alpha Centauri galaxy?"
         "No." Lair-ee waved the issue away. "Look, it's very far away, and you've probably never heard of it."
         "Try me."
         "It's very far away, so far away that it would boggle your mind to think of how many light years we've traveled, and we need your mind unboggled to be a good slave and surrender, so if you don't mind—"
         "I ain't a slave for no one unless I know what planet they're from!"
         "Fine!" Lair-ee barked. "If you really must know—"
         "I must."
         "Shut up! As I was saying, if you really must know, we are from…the planet Earth."
         Gamaliel allowed that to suspend in the air for a moment. "This is Earth."
         Lair-ee blinked at him. "What?"
         "This is Earth," Gamaliel repeated, gesturing downward with his hands.
         "What, that bench?"
         "No, this planet! This planet is Earth! You can't be alien ducks if you're from Earth, because this is Earth!"
         Lair-ee's eyes darted around for a moment before he began again. "We are from…another part of Earth!"
         "Oh, yeah? What part?"
         "We are from…" Lair-ee seemed to pause to think again. "…West Earth!"
         "Really?" asked Gamaliel. "That's funny, because this is West Earth, and I don't think I ever saw an evil alien duck before."
         "Did I say ‘West Earth'?" Lair-ee continued. "I meant East. We are evil, illegal alien ducks from East Earth."
         Gamaliel leaned forward. "Oh, so you're from East Earth. That must mean you know Tommy Forconi."
         Lair-ee scowled. "No, I don't think we ever met—"
         "Oh, come on! Everybody from East Earth knows Tommy Forconi!"
         "Look, we probably just run in different circles or something. That's hardly—"
         "You haven't even heard of him, have you?"
         "Uh…"
         "You can't be from East Earth and not know Tommy Forconi!"
         "Would you please shut up?!" Lair-ee placed a wing against his forehead. "Lord, we should've conquered you sorry losers years ago! Look, it's not important! None of this is important! All you need to know is that we have a plasma cannon aimed at major human cities, and we shall destroy them at our leisure until you surrender! So surrender, Earthling! Surrender or die by our mighty plasma cannon!"
         At that moment, another duck, wearing what appeared to be a beret and feathery moustache,  stepped up behind Lair-ee. "Pardon me, sir."
         "Can this wait, lieutenant? I'm conquering here!"
         "Well, sir…" The moustached duck leaned in and appeared to whisper into an area that most people believe ducks have ears.
         "Oh, very well," said Lair-ee, clearly exasperated. He turned back to Gamaliel. "We have to conference for a moment, Earthling. Cower in fear until I return. Cower, I say!" Lair-ee turned to the other ducks, "Now, what's so damned important?"
         Gamaliel saw the lieutenant duck whisper something to Lair-ee, who blurted out, "The what isn't working?" More whispering. "Oh, for chrissake!" said Lair-ee, before reluctantly turning back to Gamaliel. "Okay! Forget the plasma cannon! It seems someone forgot to plug in the recharger!"
         "I said I was sorry, sir," said the lieutenant.
         "Yes, well, it's a little late for that now! But no matter! We still have plenty of other weapons at our disposal."
         "Yeah?" said Gamaliel, visibly bored. "Like what?"
         "Well, we have these!" Lair-ee reached into his side feathers and withdrew a weapon. "Our laser pistols!"
         "That's a slingshot," Gamaliel drawled.
         Lair-ee blanched momentarily, gave the weapon another look, and re-aimed it at Gamaliel. "Oh, sure! No doubt your primitive Earth brain perceives this as a slingshot! But on our planet, these are deadly, powerful laser pistols!"
         "Yeah," said Gamaliel, "except you said your planet is Earth. And on Earth, they're called slingshots."
         "They're still deadly and powerful," Lair-ee reminded him.
         "Yeah, no doubt. You know what? I don't believe you're evil alien ducks. I don't believe you're here to conquer the planet. I don't believe you have any plasma cannons, laser pistols, or even opposing digits to fire those slingshots. In fact, I think…" He giggled. "I think…I think you're a quack!"
         Gamaliel burst out laughing, as Lair-ee scowled at him. "That's not funny."
         "Oh, but it is!" said Gamaliel, laughing harder. "You're a quack, get it? Ducks go quack! And you are a quack!" He continued laughing, rolling around on the bench, clutching his sides.
         "Stop that," Lair-ee said coldly.
         "Don't you mean, ‘quack, quack'?" said Gamaliel, using his hands to mimic flapping beaks. "Quack, quack, quack! Quack, quack, quackity-quack quack quack!"
         "All right, knock it off!" Lair-ee ordered stamping his webbed foot down. "We ducks do not sit around and quack all day! That's just an unfair stereotype! A vulgar, specie-ist stereotype!"
         The lieutenant perked up. "Actually, sir, we do quack a lot."
         "Shut up, lieutenant!" Lair-ee barked at him. "You're not helping here! Whose side are you on, anyway? Christ!"
           "See?" asked Gamaliel. "I knew it! You're quacks, all of you! Why don't you just quack up your bags and— Oh, god! Did you hear what I just said? ‘Quack up your bags!' Oh, lord, I quack myself up!" Gamaliel laughed hysterically for several moments.
         "All right!" Lair-ee said, interrupting Gamaliel's bales of laughter. "Now look! I've had just about enough of you! One more quack out of you, and I'll blast you with our plasma cannon!"
         "I thought your plasma cannon wasn't working."
         "I mean our laser pistols!"
         "You mean your slingshots."
         "Whatever! Shut up!" He pointed his weapon at Gamaliel, which, as far his target could see, was not even loaded. "Now are you going to surrender?"
         "Quack!" said Gamaliel.
         "Stop that! I'm warning you!" Lair-ee pulled back the rubber band with his other wing.
         "Quack!"
         "Don't make me shoot!"
         Gamaliel stared back at the duck. He glanced to his left. Then to his right.
         Then he looked at Lair-ee and said: "Quack."
         Lair-ee released the rubber band.
         A thin, red beam shot from the slingshot, bathing Gamaliel in a bright, destructive red light.
         "I am undone!" Gamaliel cried out, and moments later, he was reduced to a smoking pile of ashes.
         The ducks watched as the wind blew the ashes across the park. The lieutenant, after a pregnant pause, cleared his throat. "With all due respect, sir, you should really control that temper."
         "I know, I know!" said Lair-ee, pocketing his laser pistol. "But dammit, he just pushed all my buttons, and— No!" He spun on his webbed feet to face his troops. "No, I shall not control my temper! We are conquerors, and conquerors must show strength! We must be vengeful and merciless if we are to rule! And rule we shall, with an iron wing! We shall not stop, never yield, until all humans bow down before us as the true rulers of planet Earth! Nothing shall stop us! Nothing!"
         The lieutenant gestured behind Lair-ee. "Oooo, look! That old lady has breadcrumbs!"
         And with that, the Earth was saved.