Quack one, Act two, Scene seven: We wuz Ducks an shid: The beginning.

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In this earth, there are many ducks. Most of them can't count. Kyle was no exception, however, he awoke one morning. He was the first Kyle, the true Kyle. For convenience, we shall call him Kyle, a typical duck name, so you simple readers can understand. This Kyle was a proud duckling, a strong duckling. Ever since he was hatched, he worked hard, and now, one week after hatching, is a responsible duckling.

However, after all those hard years being a duck, he was lonely. He existed in duckling solace, living only to see the days pass by. A week into life, and he was already distraught with the solitude of a duck life. He begun to have his midweek crisis.

It was then that it happened. It could only be called duck magic. Infront of him, five more little ducks, all somehow drawn to his humble duck abode, gathered. It was later said some divine duck force drew them together.

All these ducks were all exactly one day younger than each other, leading to some form of duck hierachy to form; That is, except for the fourth duck. That duckhead had the audacity to be born exactly -0.356124 seconds out of sync. He was nearly executed for that, but duckling as kind creatures. Unlike humans, they forgave this. If I were in this situation, I would definitely have slaughetered him, but over time, we can grow to accept and understand his foolish error.

Anyway, these ducks all convened under their new duck-platoon leader. These ducks were lost, seperated from their mothers and robotic parenting replacements. As ducks can't talk, they don't even have names. However, we appreciate that would make it difficult to follow, so we decided to name them for your convenience.

Duck 2, had a likeness, an aura much like our first duck. For that reason, we decided he shall be named Kyle. Duck 3 however, was more mellow, more wise yet somewhat powerful than a duck his age should be. Considering that, we decided he must be called Kyle. Duck 4 was a complete idiot, a fool. We figured he must be named something in accordance for that, so we dothed him the name Kyle. Duck 5, he was a typical duck. Unremarkable. We even forgot to give him a name, but seeing as the rest got named Kyle, this conformist duck called himself Kyle. What nerve. Finally, Duck 6. He was a kind duck, a caring duck, fit to be a big brother. But oddly enough, he was the youngest. Now, as you could tell, our creative naming department is currently on strike, and our only employee in attendance is a half-eaten doughnut. So guess what, his name is also Kyle.

These ducks just stood there for a while. They had no clue what to do, I mean they were only baby ducks. Eventually, Kyle.1 speaks up. "Quack. Quack quack, cheep, quack quack." They all nod solemnly. He struck their thoughts right on the nail. Of course they were all thinking something was wrong. They all agreed, but had no idea what to do. Rather, they all put their heads together, and thought. Passerbys on the street were meanwhile having a good time witnessing some cute duck shit. The ducklings, oblivious, continued trying their hardest and looking extremely cute while they tried.

Then, exactly 752 duck hours later, or 3 human seconds later, a duck murder happened, or also known as a man dropping a carton of eggs around 200 yards away.

However, with death comes life, yin comes yang, bad stories many sad humans.

A solitary egg, cushioned by its brothers' unholy graves, rolled onto the ground unscathed. It then proceeded to fly at the other ducks at around mach 68.567. It stopped just short of them, and hatched into the last baby duck, since having 6 ducks would be stupid.

At this point in time, our naming departmant have followed the example of the writing department and are doing absolutely fuck all.

"Hey ariaM."
"What do you want you weirdo?"
"Hey you know, Eener, what'd be really funny?"
"No clue. Your death?
"Nah man, funnier."
"What, I can't even think of anything."
"Naming a duckling 'I don't even know."
"Why the fuck would you do that."
"Reasons."
"K, lets do it."

And so I don't even know was born. However, I am lazy, so his name shall be shortened to Idek, which no-one knows how to pronounce, because our naming department should objectively be executed.

This duckling, this glorious wonder of a duckling, spoke but one word.

"Quack."

With this, all surrounding bystanders achieved internal peace and true tranquility. Babies globally stopped crying, wars halted, and brothers and sisters all rejoiced for a reason they could not comprehend. The reason that was Idek.

The ducklings all looked at each other. They knew this duck was fated to join their duck squadron. They picked him up, and with a loving quack adopted him.

They proceded to waddle into the distance.

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