copyright © 2003 by Robert L. Blau

    In a wood, at the edge of a pond, a mother duck sat on her eggs.  She felt like she was sitting on a pile of rocks.  She sighed.  Incubating eggs never used to be like this.  Then she noticed the odd egg.  It was about twice the size of the others, and a shade softer than diamond.  She didn't remember laying it, and she was pretty sure she would have noticed.   But the mother duck continued to sit on her clutch of eggs.
    One by one, the eggs hatched, but the single plus-sized egg remained a pain in the ass.  It burned like a host of hemorrhoids, but the mother duck was determined to see all of her offspring hatch.  Finally, she heard a faint pecking from within.  The pecking grew louder and louder until, at last, the egg shell cracked.  At length, the baby bird emerged.  It was the most hideous excuse for a bird the mother duck had ever seen.
    "Ah," she said. "Finally!  A face not even a mother can love.  But never mind.  You may be as ugly as the back side of a bus, but you are my back side of a bus.  Lord knows how this happened, but I will treat you just as I treat the other ducklings."
    The mother duck was as good as her word.  To the best of her ability, she taught the Ugly Duckling to swim, forage for food, and waddle in line.  Unfortunately, the Ugly Duckling wasn't a very good student.  He would never stay in line, but would shoulder the other ducklings out of his way and grab food out of their beaks.  While swimming, he would run over the other ducklings as if they weren't there.  Still, the mother would not abandon him.
    Before long, the mother duck noticed something interesting.  There were actually several ugly ducklings on the pond.  It seemed like every mother duck had one.  She resolved to quack to the other mothers and see what she could learn.  At first, no one seemed to have an explanation of the ugly ducklings.  Then one mother, who still waddled with a limp, spoke up.
    "Little bugger caused me so much grief, I just had to find out," she said. "These ugly spuds aren't ducks at all.  Have you ever heard of cuckoos, the birds who leave their eggs in other birds' nests?"
    "Oh, but these can't be cuckoos," objected the first mother duck. "Cuckoos aren't water birds."
    "Ah, but this is a mutant species of cuckoo," replied the limping mother duck. "They're called 'Kong cuckoos.'  They're bigger and uglier and meaner."
    "Oh, swell," said the first mother duck. "Nevertheless, we did give them birth.  After a fashion.  And they're here now, so we need to share the pond with them."
    After some grumbling, the other ducks agreed.  
    And so the ducks and the Kongs worked out a modus vivendi .  A Pond Council, consisting of all ducks and Kongs, was formed.  The Pond Council would meet and apportion different portions of the pond to each species for feeding, mating, living, hanging out, and so forth.   Where disputes arose, they would meet again and work out mutually agreeable compromises.
    This arrangement was quite serviceable for several years, but the numbers of the Kongs were increasing rapidly.  One day, the Kongs called a meeting of the Pond Council.  When the ducks looked around, they suddenly realized that they were outnumbered.
    "The meeting will come to order!" bellowed one loud, obnoxious Kong. "The other Kongs have made me king, so I'll be in charge now.  We will now consider the proposal of opening the entire pond to Kong colonization."
    "Wait a minute!" quacked the ducks. "We live here, too!"
    "Shut up!" barked the king Kong. "All in favor, signify by saying 'aye.'"
    All of the Kongs voted "aye."
    "Motion carries," said the king Kong. "Next proposal:  the Kongs get all the food they want, and the ducks can have the leftovers, if any."
    "Now, just one cotton pickin' minute!" objected the ducks.
    "You're all out of order!" bawled the king Kong. "All in favor?"
    All of the Kongs voted "aye."
    "Motion carries," said the king Kong. "Next proposal:  the Kongs will be the rulers, and the ducks have to do everything we - I mean 'they' - say."
    "Well," quacked one duck, "I know one thing the Kongs can't do by themselves - nest!  I say, we beat wings outta here."
    And they did.  The air was filled with the flapping of wings, as the entire canardian population of the pond took off.
    "Wait!" screamed the king Kong. "Come back, you cowards!"
    "And I was looking forward to a rational, bipartisan discussion of the issues," said a junior Kong. "It's the democratic way."
    "Uh, that would be before voting our way, right?" prompted the king.
    "Or after," said the young Kong.
    A couple of pigeons had been watching the spectacle from the bank of the pond.
    "Gosh, those ducks are an embarrassment to birdkind," said one.
    "Yeah, birds don't turn tail and run from a fight," said the other.
    "We don't?" cooed the first. "Oh, right.  We don't ."
    "Yeah, those ducks need to learn how to compromise," said the the second pigeon.
    "Yoo-hoo!" called the king Kong from the pond. "We have a scientific interest in the architecture of pigeon nests.  Would  you just give us a peek at yours?"