Don loved his duck who advised him in all

Don loved his duck who advised him in all manner of life's ups and downs, and so on the day of his court appearance on charges of insobriety he smuggled in some brewskies and Daffy

Daffy's webbed feet slapped up the tile steps of the courthouse. He waved his wings around, reminding Don to keep his big fat mouth shut. Don sipped his smuggled-in beer, listening

to Happy Hardcore. Don found the courage to give his statement to the court on Daffy's corrupt activities. Don closed his eyes and remembered when he blew his whistle at a rave

n it would descend from the heavens and pluck out the eyes of any human in the vicinity. High as a kite he thought his friend would enjoy the ecstasy more if Daffy was blind. He ca

Plotted to find a blotter for Daffy's google glasses froom which he viewed virtual reality, whatever that looked like. Caplotting from Walmart to Walmart, he found only cheap

blotters that were beginning to bother him into a lather. Rather than that, though, he gathered what mattered and scattered it all like a Fat Cat Grandfather called Der Fuhrur 2.0.

That brought us to the most awkward beach combing find of my childhood, a subject which bothered my parents and myself every time it was inadvertently broached: The discovery of

the horny quahog. Even though I was quite small at the time, I could tell by my parents' reaction to it that something about it was naughty. Plus, it sang a dirty little ditty that

made my father’s ruddy complexion turn a deep burgundy. The drunk quahog—a clear, clammy substance around its yawning cavity—sang: Let me hold your mussel; don’t be shellfish