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A Duck Out Of Water

Summary:

In April of 1970, a duck of rare and largely unappreciated talent leaves Dutchess County with a one-way ticket, a cardboard suitcase and a borrowed hat. The Acme Corporation of Albuquerque, New Mexico, needs a research associate, and they asked for him personally.

It's classified work. Real science. Daffy Duck is finally gonna be somebody, and the rabbit back home can hold his applause. After all, it’ll only be for a year or two. What could happen?

(Sequel to You Better Duck, Rabbit)

Notes:

WELL HERE WE ARE, FRIENDS. This is the second installment of my Duck vs. Acme series and one I have been anxious to get to.

Note: this story uses a workskin so I can get appropriately wild with the formatting. So if you have creator workskins turned off, make an exception for this one to get the full effect!

Chapter 1: EXHIBIT I, pp. 1–2

Chapter Text

Notebooks kept by Plaintiff, 1970–1984. Volume 1, inside front cover and pages 1–2. Composition book, handwritten in ink, with Plaintiff's corrections preserved. Plaintiff's own numbered notes appear at the foot of each page. Produced by Defendant in In re Acme Corporation Product Testing Litigation.

  PROPERTY OF
D. DUCK, RESEARCH ASSOCIATE
CLASSIFIED

If found, return to D. Duck, c/o Acme Corporation, Research Division, Albuquerque, New Mexico. Reward.

March 30, 1970. Dutchess County, New York (temporary).

The ticket came today. It is genuine. I held it up to the lamp.

A scientist begins a notebook by setting down his program,1 so that later, when they write about him, they can see he knew what he was doing the whole time. My program is as follows:

  1. Fix the edges of the Portable Hole. (See previous correspondence. All of it.)
  2. Rockets, probably.
  3. Get something named after me. A law, or a comet. A disease if it comes to that.
  4. Appear in a magazine. Not necessarily on the cover. Page three is fine. Page four in a pinch.
  5. Come home in December in a coat that costs real money, then stand in it at the feed store until somebody asks.
  6. Thank the rabbit for letting me go.

Item 6 withdrawn. He'd be insufferable about it.

1 You'll have noticed the little number. Every scientific journal I ever got a look inside of has them all over the place, and I intend to be authentic. (I have gotten a look inside of two. The library in Poughkeepsie keeps the rest behind a desk, and the lady at the desk and I have a history.)

Observations: Weather, clear. Mood of the subject (myself), excellent. Mood of the rabbit, inconclusive.

The rabbit has now said good night from the other room twice, which in rabbit means go to bed. I am going to bed. Not because he said so. A scientist needs his rest.

D. Duck