Chapter Text
His name was Wilfred Quackers.
He was a blonde young man. Not as young as he would like to be again, but he was still in his prime. Kind of.
He stretched his arms over his head languidly and ambled outside to the pool that had a scenic view of the ocean. It was vast, he thought. Blue meeting blue where the sky and water pressed flush against each other. He wondered what was truly beyond it, yet he really had no desire to go out and explore.
Besides, he had many friends who desired to explore it . More power to them. They could tell him all about it when they got back. Speaking of friends, Wilfred had some coming over soon for a pool hangout. A little chill, relaxing time. Nothing big, extravagant, or fancy. The problem was that he invited everyone on his friends list from his DuckSpace account, thinking that only a handful would show up. Not everyone. And everyone répondez s’il vous plaît.
Wilfred wasn't really expecting that many to respond. Again, he was expecting maybe one or two to quack back, but not everyone.
Wilfred sighed as he tousled his hair and walked down the steps to the pool. He scanned the water to ensure there were no leaves or insects, and with his hands on his hips, you gave a nod of approval. Ice-clear water and the perfect temperature. The sun shone high above, warming his skin comfortably. He needed a bit of sun, having been cooped up for months. Wilfred knew he was going to burn.
That is what sunblock was for.
Wilfred began to apply the lotion in time as he reached down to turn on the radio. The sound of the waves mixed with ambient silence was not exactly pleasing to him. Some music, Wilfred thought, would help drone out the nothingness. He didn't even see which station he had changed it to; he just listened for whatever had the best vibe. Wilfred thought he passed something in Morse code, but that wasn't his style. Whatever he ended up settling on was to his liking. He kept it.
Wilfred took one last glance around at everything. The chair was set up. There was shade for those who might want to comfort themselves from the sun. And then there were those accursed things.
The pool floats.
Wilfred shivered. He hated those things.
No one used them. No one liked them. Wilfred wasn't sure why they were there. Wilfred just assumed that the previous owners wanted to leave him with a gift, but now he was thinking they may have hated them, too. Why else would they leave them?
There were numerous possibilities as to why they were there, but Wilfred digressed. He turned to head back inside, but took a double-take back at the poolside. He stopped and turned to the flamingo float. Did it just move? Wilfred watched it a moment longer before shaking his head and going inside for a soda.
Wilfred emerged a few moments later like a spirit from the fog, easy and silent, and held the already perspiring soda in his hand. He glanced around at the pool once more. Both of the slides were working, the atmosphere was chill, and the day was perfect. Wilfred went to take a sip of his soda but stopped just as the tin brushed his lips, turning his head to the sound of the doorbell; the hand that held the can was hovering in front of his face.
The first guest had arrived.
Wilfred placed the can on the foldable table and went to greet his first attendee.