Ducked Tape (December 2021)
“Our story starts here. The Year? 2021. The Place? Albany, New York. In the city that never sleeps, a young duck is forced to work quite possibly the WORST job ever……sell duct tape for TOCME. But the duck sha-“ Out the recording booth and into the cartoon, NOW. “Okay, fine.” The duck would lash back. “Back to the cartoon…” *title card* “In NY, the Empire State, is naturally large. So tons of stuff gets broken. Walls, windows, AK-47s, that’s where my DUCKED TAPE comes in!” Fydo turned off his PowerPoint presentation. “So, that’s my pitch! Whaddya think, Mr. J? :D” “it’s terrible. Listen, duck, you’ve gotta sell us at least 1,000 duct tapes buy the end of the month.” “A T H O U S A N D. BY THE END OF DECEMBER. ” “Well if ya can’t do it I’ll have you be my Christmas dinner or taxidermied” Fydo would look at the screen and gulp in utter fear. “Rightawaysir” He’d say before zipping off.
“Duct tape! Get some duct tape! Buy 2 get 1 free! (Do I get one of two or 3 all together?)” Fydo advertised. Finally, he got a customer. “Ooh, duct tape! How much?” “$15” “OH, I SEE YOUR LITTLE PLAN. GET US ADDICTED THEN JACK UP THE PRICE!” “Well sir, if I don’t sell enough I’ll d-“ Fydo was interrupted by a punch to the bill “(well, the customer’s always right I guess…)” so, after a few sales, a SPECIAL customer came up. That customer was Dollie the Swan, Fydo’s crush he had an astronomically low chance with “(well, there’s still a chance, even if it’s an incredibly slim one…)” . “Excuse me” she asked as Fydo put on his ‘’play it cool around crush’’ shades and got into position. “May I gave some tape? Accident at the fashion parlour.” The swan handed out a 20$ bill. “Huh? Oh yeah that. Take as much as you like..on the house.” She’d pay and leave with a ‘’that guy’s weird’’ expression.
And Fydo later got sale after sale, 670, 845, 992! However, just before he could hit 1,000…..he SOLD OUT. To make it worse, it was the 30th! “Well, well, well….” The CEO said. “Looks like it’s duck dinner for Christmas!” Fydo swallowed hard in fear. “C-close enough, r-r-r-r-r-right…?” He’d stutter enough to shed a tear to Porky Pig’s eye. “Eh, I guess so. It didn’t matter, I would’ve eaten you anyway but diet.” Fydo let out the most relieved sigh ever, ignoring the fact he would’ve died anyways. “Unfortunately, I didn’t inform the Butcher.” “WAIT WH-“ Fydo looked to his right where the Butcher’d sharpen his cleaver menacingly. “ROLL CREDITS, PLEASE!”
*we’ll be right back* (No, we won’t.…or will we?)
THE END.
