Friday, October 28, 2016

Duck off—backward, no heels

The duck hates me—HATES me. Whenever I appear within sight it stands sentinel at the fence gate and in a ready attack position, scraping its beak back and forth along the grill like a lifer in county. 

I had to go into the wasteland that was thebeforeago, where grass and other vegetation once was, that is the chicken enclosure to check for eggs from the chickens—not the duck, who does not lay (reason unknown).

All I had was stacked pair of takeaway white salad bowls which I bought for the egg(s) but ended up used as a shield by me to fend off the fucking duck. 

I was going backwards, the bowls held low in its face to fend off its beak or head crane as it chased me past the water, around the dog-leg, past the hutch and into the back of the fence, forcing me to circle around after I opened the first side end to get the one egg then maneuvered to check the other side of the hutch. The entire time the duck's head darting forth to strike at me or trying to manuever behind me for little bit of reverse action.

Its beak was fairly rattling around the inside of the inside bowl with a rat-a-tat-tat as it got trapped for an extended period of battle frenzy, the duck having selected to rage as a free action and boosting its strength and constitution by two for a period of three plus (rage-altered constitution score modifier) rounds with a round equal to six of your human seconds. 

It also got an additional plus two to Willpower saves, though it had a minus two to its Armour Class for the frenzy.

I was panting by the time I made back to the gate, almost my entire Logan's Run through the yard being in reverse and with my surgical adhesion dragging my ample tummy towards the ground.

It was pretty funny, a slow motion "Yakatey Sax" without the sex (or music), starring a backwards shuffling middle-aged man frantically repelling a duck's beak-based attack (1d1-3 lethal damage) with a stacked pair of salad bowls. 

The single egg survived the encounter. 

Fucking duck. 

The bitter irony is that not less than an hour before I had laughingly told a friend about the time my dad got bailed up a wall by a cassowary in Indonesia only for me to then experience my own WHEN BIRD(s) ATTACK!

Fucking irony. 

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