Quack, quack

Saturday, February 24, 2007

A ducks quack doesn't echo...

How the hell did one find out this significant piece of information. Here's my theory....

So Michael was sat in his secret cave, and Peter quacked.

Peter being the said duck.

Michael thought this was a bit odd. You see Michael loved the animals. He had a special place he took them. Michael wondered why little Peter wasn't making as much noise as the rest. Only last Saturday Daisy the local cow (n o how her cheese is so good ..but that's not for here) had cried the cave down. Her moos had ricocheted the walls of the ancient seaside structure.

Michael wasn't a bad lad. Just one of those 'uncles' that ur mum warned you of, and he had an uncanny look of sloth from the Goonies about him. But as a five yr old you thought this was a bit kooky n cool, and who cares you just ate a pile of worms earlier.

Anywho cutting along story short. Michael was doing Peter up the wrong and realised he had struck gold, because unlike the puppies, kittens and all the others he's sampled 'ol Peter, no matter how much he expressed his enjoyment, he couldn't be heard by the masses,

Onto a winner Michael told his mate Dave, who was also bald, but had mucheo respek for the aviation breed, but also did long hours at the local wind tunnel testing kites and other toys of interest to small children.

Dave told his mate scientist Rob about Michaels new discovery.

So Rob with his terribly big mouth told the worlds media.

That was it. Ok so the world knew that a ducks quack didn't echo, and that was very good ammunition for the dead end pub conversation or the ideal antidote to slip into a moment by the water cooler on a drab Thursday morning. But Rob the big mouthed scientist had spoilt it for all duck loving fanciers out there.