The Rubber Chicken begins the Search for the Fuzzy Duck

To read the previous edition of our feathered friend's love drama, go here.



After discovering the Fuzzy Duck had gone to rescue her mother from the evil Skull Face in the attic, the Rubber Chicken set out in the dark of night to rescue his feathered love.



At first, he simply ran around the streets in a fit of panic.


"What should I do?" he fretted, flapping his wings frantically. "Where should I go? There's a million places she could be!"


Terrible images raced through his mind. What if the Fuzzy Duck was hurt? What if she had been captured by the Skull Face's evil hooligans? What if....the last thought was so horrifying he couldn't bear to finish it. Gnashing his beak together, he threw himself down in front of the restaurant they went to on their first date.



"It's useless," he whispered to himself, his wings dangling by his sides. "I'm just a rubber chicken. How can I rescue her?"

"First, you have to stop sniveling!" a voice snapped.

"It's not romantic," a second voice scolded him.

"Buck up, chin up!" a third voice cheered.

"Do you have any pie?" a fourth voice answered.

The Rubber Chicken looked up in astonishment. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.



"Hello," he said uncertainly.

"Hello," the first duck said.

"How do you do?" the second duck asked.

"Why are you still wuffling on the ground?" the third duck asked.

"Do you like chicken nuggets or are you morally opposed to them?" the fourth duck asked.

The Rubber Chicken blinked. He had never been asked so many questions at once. "Actually, I'm looking for a girl," he said. "The Fuzzy Duck. Have you seen her?"

"The one with frizzy feathers?" the first duck asked.

"She was here yesterday," the second duck said.

"With the Yellow Chicken," the third duck confirmed.

"You might want to check with her," the fourth duck advised. "She's at the late night cafe down the street."

"Thanks!" the Rubber Chicken cried. Cheered, he hurried down the road towards the late night cafe. When he got there, only a few patrons were sprinkled about the booths. The Yellow Chicken was munching on apple pie and a entire carton of ice cream when he burst through the door.



"Excuse me, ma'am!" he cried. "I'm in desperate need of your aid!"

"Not my pie, I hope," the hen clucked, pulling her plate closer to her feathered breast.

"Oh no," the Rubber Chicken assured her. "I'm looking for the Fuzzy Duck. Do you know where she is?"

"We had a lovely lunch yesterday,"the Yellow Chicken chortled, waving her spoon in the air. "Corn salad with tomato and grasshopper soup and honey macaroons! Delicious!"

"Yes," the Rubber Chicken agreed. "It sounds lovely. Did the Fuzzy Duck mention any plans?"

The Yellow Chicken chewed on her pie for a moment. "She was going to the Mr. B, the banker," she said finally. "You might check with him. He comes to the bank at 7 a.m., so you might meet him then."


"Thanks!" the Rubber Chicken shouted. Enthused, he hurried home. The next morning, he bolted out of bed and raced to the bank. He was there by 6:30 a.m. Burying into his rubber feathers, he had almost fallen asleep when he saw the silver banker ascending the bank steps.



"Excuse me!" he shouted. "May I ask you a question?"

"What?" the silver pig snapped. "Time is money, money is time! Unless your question revolves around quarters or dimes, that's no concern of mine!"

The Rubber Chicken blinked, then shook his head. "I'm looking for the Fuzzy Duck," he said. "Do you know where she went?"

"Foolish duck!" the silver pig cried. "She took all her money and drained her account! There's not a quarter, a dime or even a penny left to count!"

"But where did she go?" the Rubber Chicken pressed. "Did she say?"

"The Taco Dog," the silver pig snapped, pulling keys out of the slot on his back to open the door. "Time is money, money is time! Unless you have bank business, this is goodbye!" The silver pig hurried into the bank and slammed the door. Shacking his feathered head, the pig hurried to the Taco Dog. By this late in the morning, it was crowded with customers wanting tasty breakfast tacos. The Rubber Chicken shoved his way to the front.


"Taco, burrito or tamale?" the Taco Dog inquired.

"None of the above," the Rubber Chicken replied. "I'm looking for the Fuzzy Duck."

"She likes burritos," the Taco Dog assured him. "Eggs, bacon and cheese. With a splash of beans."

"Where is she?" the Rubber Chicken asked, his patience fading.

"I don't know," the Taco Dog shrugged. "She hasn't been in for breakfast in two days. Next customer!" he called, looking over the Rubber Chicken's shoulder.



Pushing through the crowd, the Rubber Chicken plopped down on a bench and buried his head in his feathers. "It's hopeless," he muttered to himself. "She's so far gone I'll never catch her."

"Not necessarily."

The Rubber Chicken jerked his head up and gasped. "Who are you?"



"I can help," a pink cupid snorted, his snout twitching as his wings fluttered. "Let me introduce myself..."

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have all sorts of whimsical fun this week. Tomorrow, we have a new Gift! Then we've got a new Twirl, a new addition to the Pond and a family recipe that will have you drooling into your keyboards. Get ready for a whimsical week at the Pond!