Nazi ducks attacked the swan and killed it. Dark red blood stained its white feathers, and its black eyes misted grey. They were no end of trouble, the ducks, and when the parish council said they’d pay five pounds for every Nazi duck killed Mr Greenwitch got a greedy look across his fat face. He set off down to the pool where the river slowed and the ducks were known to hangout, with a shot gun and a big bag to put his enemies in. The next day he was found floating face down about a mile down stream, the ducks circling him and quacking raucously. They were blood thirsty to be sure and arrogant as anything. The reward was increased and open season was declared, but no one else had the heart to try.
Eventually, from a town far along the peninsular came a wild man. He was close to seven feet tall and three wide, with arms like mighty thighs and legs like trees. His beard ran straight on from his hair and down to his waist and was streaked red and black. It was rumored that he’d fought the devil and won, and the devil now called him master. He wore a vast coat that trailed the floor for a pace behind him and no one had ever seen his feet. He came to get the Nazi ducks and the parishes’ money. The mayor and the padre came out to greet him, and a dinner was planned in his honor, but after an hour by that pool he came back with a stammer and a limp and wouldn’t say what happened. He left before the feast and everyone went home with heavy hearts.
Soon after that, the ducks started attacking the little ones on the way back from Sunday school, and the old ones on the way to bingo. Eventually the town called the men from the government, and a lot of stuff happened. Men with brown coats talked into small black phones, and to men in white coats who looked at them with troubled eyes, and looked at clip boards and frowned and said little to the people of the town. A large tent was built over the pool and the river dammed on either side.
One day all the men in brown coats went around the town telling everyone to stay inside until tomorrow. Then at about tea time there was a bang. Then another one. Then a clatter of so many bangs that it sounded as if it was only one long bang. Then there was silence.
In the morning, all the men were gone, and the tent and the dams and the Nazi ducks.