The Great Rebellion

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

“Tonight’s the night!” stated Pig. Ready for slaughter, he was determined.

“But what about–” Hen tried to interject some reason.

“NO BUTTS! Especially not mine,” roared Pig. “They want to SMOKE my butt!”

Cow chimed in: “I’m happy here. All they take from me is milk.”

“TREASON!” roared Pig. “Just stay in the dark shadows.”

Rooster crowed, “You’re too big to stay in the shadows.”

Pig prevailed, though, and he pushed against the barn door until it broke. Lamb followed, along with Hen and her chicks. Duck and Goose were close behind.

Unmoving, Bull thought, “Stupid Pig. Already dead meat!”


An Alliterative Duck Tale


(Middle English duk, doke, from Old English dūce)


Dirk wasn’t one to duck his duties. As a child, he’d always tried to be deft at doing the jobs he’d been delegated.  He learned the proper way to dine, dance, and develop friendships that would further Doc’s, his dad’s, standing in Dallas. He’d always understood duty.

He just wasn’t allowed, or later encouraged, to date. Doc didn’t want some driveling little poor man’s daughter to demean his son’s, and thereby his own, sense of direction.

“Dames are not de rigueur for our purposes,” Doc declared.

But then Dirk met Darla, and he dared to  defy dear old Doc. When Doc roared, “Hands off–no girls!” Dirk declared his independence. He got a job near Dallas on an oil rig, got his hands dirty and developed a talent for detecting new, undrilled oil fields.

Dirk and Darla dated happily, said “I DO!” and went on to develop their own wealth. They had a daughter they named Dahlia, and a son named Dean. They had started their own dynasty, and dear old Doc doddered into his dotage, ducking drops of humiliation as his dark deeds were discovered.


RDP: Duck Tale