Just because the past seventy-four Duck Liberation Plans have failed does not mean we're taking this flippers-down. My latest: I wrap myself in a box marked "urgent," mail myself to the White House (help needed), then burst from the packaging during an important meeting, before giving the speech of my life. "Don't duck around with the mail-ins!" I'll cry, "or we'll make Hitchcock's The Birds a reality."
Then I will somehow escape, avoiding the kitchen.
Ideas? Comments? Holes? Pondweed?
Over and out,