OT Creative Writing 101
- Premise : A beloved pet duck gets cooked by mistake
"Where's Webster?"my mom asked, holding up a little cashmere sweater, presumably the latest in a series of sweaters, now large enough to fill the wardrobe of Liz Claiborne, lovingly knit for her dear fowl.
I held up the science fiction book I was reading so that it would cover my snicker.
"I don't know and I don't care," I said after a moment's reflection, and then turned back to the book.
My mom frowned, and then pressed the sweater to her heart. "Oh, if it were not for that dear little duck, for whom would I knit sweaters all day? What would I do in my spare time?"
Maybe you'd learn how to cook, I thought to myself. My mom wandered off singing something by Andrew Lloyd Weber- maybe it was "J-J-J-Joseph."
At that very moment, my dad came home from the cowboy hat plant where he worked all day, turning synthetic boa constrictor hide into hideous, garish neon hats that only some city slicker fool would wear.
He poked his head in my room and inquired, "Guess what I got for our dear duck today!"
I didn't have to look up to see that it was a mauve cowboy hat; really it would have been a more believable cowboy hat had it been a simple piece of Tupperware.
"Dad," I said slowly in a fake southern drawl, "You're probably the only person on the planet who would make a cowboy hat for a duck."
"Well, he's our Webster, and I want my duck to have the very best of everything."
"Dear, dear, have you seen Webster lately?" That was my mom again.
"No, honey, I just got home and-"
"Oh my GOD- Webster's going to love this!!!"
Yep, my mom saw the cowboy hat. She was tickled pink as I'd knew she'd be.
"And you made Webster that darling little sweater!" my dad said, although I'm sure he thought his hat was infinitely more chic.
I felt queasy.
"Dear," my mom and dad said to me at the same time," do you know where in creation that precious little duck may be?"
"Well," I said, putting the book down, "Last I saw, Aunt Ida was chasing him around the yard saying, `I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna getcha and fix you up with all the trimmings!'
My parents turned pale.
"Aunt Ida- she knows he's-" my dad began.
"Webster's our little special someone- she wouldn't- she wouldn't-" my mom muttered to herself.
At that moment Aunt Ida skipped into the room, carrying a covered silver platter.
"Guess what everyone!" she screamed with glee.
"No!" my mom and dad yelled.
Then Aunt Ida lifted the lid, and Webster jumped out, wearing a three piece Gucci suit which Aunt Ida must have had tailored at a cost not less than ten grand. I dropped the book and gathered Webster into my arms, as my mom pulled the sweater over his suit and tie and my dad crowned him with the hideous little cowboy hat.
"Quack, quack," Webster said.
At last, we were a family again.