“Quack,” groked the duck.

“Thanks for understanding, feathery-friend. I appreciate that your parciloquy so effectively relays its intended meaning.”

“Quack, quack” quacked the duck.

“I am loath to feed you bread crumbs, billed-buddy, because, then, you may be perceived as oven-ready and that is a target you do not want on your tail.

*bite*, bit the duck.

“Ow-wow! I’m bleeding! You have broken skin with the wrong bibliopolist, damn-drake! I have access to volumes of the best foie-gras recipes and I am not afraid to use them!”

*curled*, curled the duck.

“Okay, look, I am sorry. Here are some sesame sticks. You may even come over and nest in my laundry room if you need a safe place–there is a basin in their, too. I value you very much and I will effort more into putting myself in your webbed feet.”

*nuzzle*, nuzzled the duck.


Categories: Melange

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