Exit the Duckman

Written 7 December, 2007

Exit the Duckman

My friend Scissors Peckable [the renowned Doug Streeter of Sweetie’s Trial fame; he has gone incognito to avoid the paparazzi (OMG! Did I just give him away?)], who himself likes to throw up builds on a vacant 16k lot on Forsaken, told me the other day that someone called duckman Frog had put a house up on the Southeast corner of the sim.

“It looks serious,” he, perhaps lamenting the loss of his personal sandbox, IMing me last night as I was kissing Sweetie in the House of 1000 Pleasures. “He’s rezzing a helipad!”

Scissors staged a raid on duckman’s squatter home, surrounding it with police cars with blaring lights and sirens, and I took the snapshot shown here.

This morning I IMed Dreamland’s Carcinia Polano, who has been most helpful during my tenure at Pele. “There’s a guy building a house on Nikolas Dix’s old property,” I said. “Did he buy or is he renting?”

“TP me,” she said. I flew over that way and sent her a taxi.

When he saw us at the edge of the property, duckman walked over.

“Hi. How R U?”

Yeah, he was one of those guys who talk that way. Irritating.

“Hi,” I said brightly. “Congratulations on buying your land.”

“I didn’t buy,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, renting is nice, too.”

“I’m not renting,” he said.

“Oh,” I beamed. “You’re a guest of Niggy, the owner.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Yep,” I IMed Carcinia.

“I don’t understand,” I said, grateful for every episode of Columbo I’d ever watched. “If you’re not buying, or renting, or a guest, how did you come to be here?”

“I just found a vacant place,” he said.

“Oh, dear," I said. "Dreamland isn’t going to like that.”

“Dreamland?”

“The owners of the land. They won’t be happy,” I said, knowing he had no clue who Carcinia was. I’m sure she was LHAO.

“I wish virtual land were free,” I said. “I really do. But you have to pay.”

“If I were you,” I said, “I’d take up my belongings before they get returned. They’ll be easier to find that way.”

“You should talk to my m8t,” said the duck.

Just then his mate, perhaps the most newbie-looking guy I’d ever seen, arrived. “Do I look like a noob?” he asked.

“Well,” I said. “Most people buy skins. And prim hair.”

“People keep saying “Hi, noob.”

“Well,” I conceded, “that might be a clue.”

“This is my m8t,” duckman said.

“Hush, duck,” m8t said. “Grown-ups are talking.”

“Do you think we could stay here until 6 pm,” the m8t asked.

About that time duckman’s house, helipad, pleasure boat, car, and assorted clutter vanished.

“wtf?” he said.

“There are nice skins and hair around as freebies,” I said to the m8t.

“wtf?’ said the duck. “Where did my house go?”

“Oh, dear,” I said. “I expect Dreamland returned it.”

The duck started to stay something, but suddenly vanished. So did his m8t. I saw them bouncing around at the edge of the sim, up and down, up and down, impossibly fast.

“Ban them?” I asked Carcinia.

“Yep,” she said.

It was all just too damn funny. I sure wish I’d laughed a little less hard and snapped a couple of pictures.


Photo: Raid on Forsaken