D.A.R.G Goes to the Snow Wars Part Three (3 of 3)

 

After much straining we managed to flip the “car”, but as we were busy working on it we didn’t notice a sign that the car had knocked over. Zippy saw it and fixed it up with duct tape, then ran up to the “car” just as I was opening the door.

“What now?” I asked curtly.

“VELOCIDUCKS!” he yelled, pointing at the sign.  Zippy thinks for some reason, that Velociducks hate him and that they are going to attack him mercilessly.

                The sign said we were in a velociduck flock’s territory. They’re extremely territorial, so going into a flock’s territory is risky.

“Well, I don’t see any around here,” Marty remarked confidently.  “Let’s just get in the car and go.  What’s the worst that could happen?”

                As you all know, saying that always causes the worst to happen. We got in and I tried to start the “car” but all we got was a loud bang, a puff of smoke, and a lit up indicator light for a dead battery.  I got the emergency battery I brought in case this happened and the jumper cables and went to start it again. No sooner had I opened the trunk and began to attach the cables, before I heard some muffled shouting in the car, and ominous quacking.

                It turned out the “car’s” bang had attracted the flock, and they had encircled the car.

They grabbed me and roughed me up before hurling me onto the roof and began to shake the car.

“EAT BREAD LOSERS!” Smokey yelled, and dumped one of the two loaves of bread brought for toasting on the ground. The ducks went for it immediately. I rushed down and tried to finish jumping the car, but the flock had at least fifteen members present.  They made short work of the bread. I had to get in before they tried to maim me again, and only managed to hook up one of the cables. Now the flock wanted the other loaf and were determined to get it.

“Quick give em’ the rest of that bread!” Zippy yelled before hiding in the duffle bags.

“No! If we give the rest of the bread to them, they’ll just eat it and want more,” Smokey squealed, pointing to the hungry ducks following the loaf’s every move. “We have to throw it far enough away to distract them long enough to fix the “car”.”

“He’s right,” I told Zippy “If they get it now, they’ll just want more.  We’ll have to find a way to launch the bread, and you’d better hurry if we want to make it to Mt. Caliburg in time.”

                We attempted to find a way to launch the bread but soon ran into problems.  For one, the “car’s sunroof would not open with the battery dead. Same for the windows. We could try opening the doors, but that would just let the ducks in. Then there was how to launch the bread itself.  The loaf was too big to throw far enough away, and if you have ever tried throwing just a slice of bread, you’d know that it’s so light that you can’t really throw it.

                Rather than argue constantly for 10 minutes like we usually would, we decided to divide our labor.

One team would figure out how to launch a slice of bread, one team would try to open the sunroof, and I kept an eye on the velociducks in case they tried anything funny with the doors.

                Maxwell, Smokey, and Marty discussed various ways to send a piece of bread flying across a field, from rolling the bread into balls and using our snowball launchers to casting the bread with Marty’s ice fishing pole. They couldn’t agree on anything and kept arguing about what would and wouldn’t work.

Smokey thought he could throw it far enough with the launcher, but Marty replied that his aim was so terrible, he couldn’t hit the ground ten feet away. Marty wanted to cast it, but Maxwell, Smokey, and literally everyone else in the car knew his casting was lousy from the time he caught Zippy by the jacket and somehow pulled him out of a boat and into the water. Maxwell suggested a slingshot, so they went with that, and began building one with bungee cords and whatever could be used as a handle.

As for the crew in charge of the sunroof, they remembered that we had an electric battery from the hanging light Zippy and Marty put in, so they decided to try and power the sunroof motor with that.  Unfortunately, it took half an hour trying to pry the roof open and arguing first. I tried to suggest jumping the car from the inside, but they thought it was terrible plan and refused.

                I watched the ducks, observing their actions as they day wore on. At first, they just stood around and stared at the car, menacingly. Then they formed some sort of circle around the “car”.  Later they dug down into the snow and waited for us to make our move. The ducks’ numbers slowly grew.  At first, I wasn’t alarmed, but then the geese showed up.  Deinonygeese are like velociducks, but only bigger, meaner, and angrier.

                For them peace was never an option.

Oddly, both Deinonygeese and velociducks are friendly with each other and will share habitat and food in exchange for mutual protection. And while we don’t know how intelligent either bird is, velociducks are smart enough to call reinforcements.

By nightfall, we were all impatient.  The ducks were cold and so were we. Those bluggards who were supposed to be powering the sunroof took forever, and the crew in charge of the slingshot finished long before they did and tried to help, slowing them down further.

Tired of waiting on them I asked, “How long is this going to take? We’ve been out here for SIX hours!”

“No we haven’t,” Zippy yapped.

“We’ve missed the sign-ups I can tell you that much.” I returned. At this point, I was at my wits end with waiting on them. Now we could not compete, unless by some chance another troop dropped out, just like something you would see in a cringey tv show special.

“Would you quit whining Rocket! It’s not like we’d have any chance of winning anyway,” Maxwell interjected rather meanly.

“What did you just say?” I asked him.

“We’d go out in the first match.  You’re wasting your time,” he replied rudely.

“Oh yeah? At least we would’ve TRIED. Besides, it’s not MY fault we’re late!”  Biggest mistake of my life right there.

The “car” erupted with accusations and allegations. Everyone blamed everyone else.

“HEY! I’m trying to work here!”

“At what? Being stupid, Fred?”

“You’re the stupid one Smokey!”

“Shut up, Schnitzel brain!”

                Either the ducks got tired of waiting, or they realized we were getting nowhere, so they got up, called the geese over, and started rocking the “car” back and forth. 

“AAAAUUUUGGGGHHH!!!!” Zippy screamed at the top of his lungs repeatedly.

“I can’t get duckpox! I’LL DIE!” Fred panicked.

“I don’t wanna’ lose my incredibly handsome looks from duck scratches!” Maxwell whined.

“NOW I’LL NEVER GET TO HAVE AN AWESOME SNOWBALL FIGHT AND LOOK SUPER COOL!” Someone (not me), screamed like a baby girl.

                After much embarrassing screaming by the troop, (including yours truly), I got slapped in the face and decided there was only one thing to be done. I opened the door, got out, and ran at full bore speed while yelling “ABANDON THE ‘CAR’ YOU FOOLS!” #Rocket running at high sppesbes#

                 I ran in circles leading the velociducks and Deinonygeese along, dodging attacks, and jumping over any that came from the front. I eventually spotted a tree and scrambled up like there was no tomorrow. Using a branch that I broke off, I fended off the advancing ducks, but as they surrounded the tree, I realized I wasn’t going to make it, when, out of nowhere……

“BAWK AWK CHUCKKAH!!” I looked out to see my troop driving the car straight at the tree, they scattered the flock, leapt out, and began pelting them with snow and whatever else was handy.  Meanwhile, Maxwell, who was driving, somehow did one of those cool drift and park things from the movies, but hit the tree I was in. I fell onto the “car” and helped fight off the ducks and geese. 

Once they had fled with their tailfeathers between their legs, we all stood around, congratulated ourselves, and laughed. 

                “Heh. We should probably get out of here before they comeback,” I chuckled.

                “Yeah, we should.  They’ll get reinforcements,” Maxwell snickered.

                “Seriously though, we should run, fast. Run very fast,” Zippy replied.

                “Okay, in the car we go,” I called. And we all hoped in and drove out of there like there was no tomorrow.

                In the car I asked the troop what had happened and why they charged the flock like that.

“Well, we all knew you always wanted to go to the snow wars so you could be in an epic snowball fight.  You’ve been trying to have one since you were four,” Maxwell explained.

“Yeah! We’ll heard you screaming and felt bad for getting in a bunch of stupid arguments and keeping you from going,” Zippy chimed in.

“Aww thanks guys,” I replied. “But I didn’t scream like a whining baby, understand?”

“YUSH SIR!” They saluted.

We drove to a motel, got a couple rooms, and slept ‘till 0800 the next day. After that we drove the last hour to Mt. Caliburg, and attended the snow wars. Even though we were too late to sign up for the tournament, we had a good time. We saw Pickles with his old troop and drank hot cocoa.  My brothers and I played in a Truffle Kart 2 tourney in the hotel lobby on our Chuffle Co. Game Bits for two hours, and Kwedge got thrown out of the hotel café for eating all the crumpets.