The Cackling Duck

A Story by Autumn Takatch

Fiction, nonsensical short story for fun.

The Cackling Duck

By: Autumn Takatch

Once upon a time, there was an evil witch with purple hair and a freaky hairdo or whatever you want to call it. Now to be certain, she was no ordinary witch by any means… No, for she ate mashed potatoes and toes! What?! She ate toes? You may be asking. Haha, got ya there didn’t I? Of course the witch didn’t really eat toes! She ate fake toes made of dough, (it was a family recipe).

Her name was Lichen. Lichen being, well… Lichen, always wore the latest fashion in hot pink. She had everything from hot pink high heels, to even a hot pink, bejeweled phone case. She also had two cats name Friggon and Dunce. Friggon had six toes on each foot, each one an eye-straining, electric green. Dunce on the other hand (or paw), was a cool blue with nine tails and a red hot mohawk to complete the look.

Anyway back to the story at hand-

Lichen was just about to try out a new hairstyle. She was actually in the middle of going to the Skunky Salon for her hair appointment on her hot new ride, (A.K.A. the broominator which was the coolest witch’s broom on the market) when she happened to pass the Doodle Grip and decided to land nearby. The Doodle Grip was the most hip hangout place around- but that’s another story for later.

Parking the broominator beside a bike rack, Lichen decided to stroll down the street when she heard the oddest noise. It sounded like an ostrich mixed with a flamingo and for a little extra something, maybe even a hint of a hyena’s laugh. Thinking that it would be a waste not to check it out, even though she was in a rush, Lichen decided to follow the noise. She picked up her broom stick and ZOOOMED there in record time.

Searching the alley below, Lichen did a double take. She was in the middle of thinking, What in the world was that yellow- When she SMACKED into a nearby electric pole, breaking her broomstick in half and frying half her brain, and soared backwards, spiraling, twisting, turning, until finally she landed with a thump in the nearest rhino’s trough. After a moment she regained consciousness, and when she looked up her eyes managed to focus on what stood before her: a fluffy, yellow, green eyed, yellow beaked, orange footed duck, who stood face to face with her.

Just then, the duck spoke:

“You’re UGLY,” it said, with sheer amusement.

That wasn’t even the odd thing, for just then, it threw its head back and started cackling like crazy! It was a horrid sound that echoed off the alley walls, ricocheting like a ping pong ball inside Lichen’s ear cavity. It was a sound so horrid it was almost unbearable. Lichen didn’t see what was so funny and looked at the creature with a seething glare.

“Hungry?” asked the duck randomly, as if it was the most ordinary thing to say in the situation, almost like saying, “Good weather we're having today.”

She just stopped and stared. Maybe it was the electric shock to the brain, or the dip in the rhino’s trough that was the final incident in a series of events that finally made her snap because next thing you know Lichen was rolling around on the ground cackling, just like the duck…

Meanwhile, a little girl walked by and saw this: An old hag with the craziest updo she’d ever seen, hidden partially under a hot pink witch’s cap (to complete the look), rolling around on the ground like a five year old throwing a tantrum, and beside her was what looked like a flea infested yellow dog cackling. But, that's not what really surprised the girl. This girl was used to seeing such things. No, what really surprised her was that the dog was actually a duck and it was pointing its short flappy wing at her cackling all the more! The girl simply just picked up her pretty emerald green, lace dress and walked away with an odd expression on her face, mumbling something about how now she had really seen it all.

After at least another ten minutes went by, Lichen finally sat up and wiped the tears away from her old wrinkled face with a gnarly old hand. Mr. Duck then followed suit doing the same.

“Good times, good times.” Peeped the duck, as if they did this sort of thing everyday.

Lichen dusted herself off, and seeing as it was getting later and she had most certainly had missed her hair appointment, she climbed upon her broomstick and said, “There’s always a place for you at my table!”

Flapping its wing in salute, the duck replied, “Not a chance.”

Amused at the witch’s hidden meaning, the duck quickly hobbled away, cackling in the process. Lichen winked and flew off into the crisp, blue, cloudless sky, thinking of duck stew all the way home, the sound of a resonating cackle fading into the distance.

THE END