How to write an Indie Promo Video

Start with the main topic you want to address. For this example, we used an indie movie about a touching story of a man and weedwhacker finding true love.

Step One:  You need a great opener. something that grabs your audience, pulls them in close, and lets you whisper sweet nothings into their ear. First hint at the main plotline.

Ex. When one man gets rejected one too many times, he swears he will never search for love again.

Step two:  Now you need to throw a wrench into the protagonists plan.  

Ex. Little does he know, it unexpectedly will find him.

Step three:  throw in some dramatic irony

Ex He had been looking in the wrong place the whole time.

Step four: Show a quote from a movie related to the opener.

Ex “Looks like the lawn needs mowing, I am going to go out to the shed to look for the lawnmower”

Step five: Have a clip of the protagonist entering a dark area, with an uncertain look on his face. Describe the situation and tell the release date.

Ex Coming this Summer, experience one love tale that hits like a whirlwind and leaves its mark for years to come.

Step six: Initiate the first meeting of the protagonist. Show the depth of the story.

Ex. “I forgot I had this weedwhacker in here. Oh man, I love this thing.” “BRRRRBBRBRBBRRRRRRHHH”.

Step seven: fade to black and tell about the thrill of the story

Ex Buckle your seatbelts tight and hold onto your hat for this wild ride that thrills from start to finish.

Step eight:  Remind the audience of the running date of the film.

Ex Coming to a theatre near you this summer. You won’t want to miss it.

Step nine: Continue exciting the audience.

Ex This affair will have you hanging on the edge of your seat.

Step ten: show one final clip that shows that the story is serious, yet still relatable.

Ex “Listen, Mom, I’m not whipped.  I just didn’t think love was supposed to hurt this bad.”

And with that, piece it all together, adding transitions where needed.

When one man gets rejected one too many times, he swears he will never search for love again. Little does he know, it will find him instead. He had been looking in the wrong place the whole time.

“Looks like the lawn needs mowing, I am going to go out to the shed to look for the lawnmower.” Coming this Summer, experience one love tale that hits like a whirlwind and leaves its mark for years to come.

“I forgot I had this weedwhacker in here. Oh man, I love this thing.”

“BRRRRBBRBRBBRRRRRRHHH” Buckle your seatbelts tight and hold onto your hat for this wild ride that thrills from start to finish. Coming to a theatre near you, see it this this summer! You won’t want to miss it. This affair will have you hanging on the edge of your seat.

“Listen, Mom, I’m not whipped.  I just didn’t think love was supposed to hurt this bad.”

Now publish it and become the accredited artist you know you are!

The Great Penny Debate

“Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.”

-   Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863

For many years, the debate over whether the penny should be spurned or not has run rampant. Although the battle of the opposing sides may not be similar to that in the movie “Braveheart”, the war is still worth fighting (Braveheart). For years, both sides have been at a standstill, similar to the trench warfare of World War 1 (World War 1). However, as the debate has more recently heated up, dangerous phrases have been lobbed from one side to another, creating a more hostile environment throughout the once peaceful United States. Brothers began gathering arms against brothers, families started to tear apart, and the fate of the nation would eventually rely on the outcome of the War of the Penny. Inevitably, the elimination of the penny needs to happen in order to preserve the union, promote the general welfare of U.S. citizens, create a more patriotic society in America, and secure the blessings of liberty to America and America’s posterity.

“Gentlemen may cry Peace, peace; but there is no peace! The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field. Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me Liberty, or give me Death!" -Patrick Henry, Virginia Convention, March 20, 1775

July 17, 2001 – The first words over the elimination of the penny were subtly spoken, with no intention to begin a war (Kolbe 1). However, the Pennyites, supporting the continuation of the penny, decided to start a war and declared it only a few days later. They proceeded to gather up their forces and prepare for the next assault. Once assimilated, the Pennyites began to build its first major fort: Fort Lincoln on Penny. During construction, words were thrown about both helping the cause for the Pennyites and hurting the reputation of the Penny Eliminators on the whole. Barbara Hagenbaugh, author of “A Penny Saved”, hyped up the morale of her troops as she yelled out words of fellow Pennyites: “The Illinois Delegation has supported keeping the penny, which featured the face of Abraham Lincoln, who... lived in Illinois for much of his adult life” (4). Deafening shouts rang out as Pennyites stomped their feet on the ground, pumped their fists in the air, and waved their team’s flag. As Hagenbaugh stepped down from the stage, Commander Susan Headley grabbed the microphone and shouted, “The Lincoln Cent is the epitome of modern day circulating coin tradition” (2). It is said that she then proceeded to toss multiple sacks of pennies into the crowd, in hopes of quelling the restless Pennyites from lack of battle. Headley stepped down and General Neal stood up. He began speaking of the atrocities of the Penny Eliminators. He ended the speech saying, “The penny is part of American history, [eliminating] it would be like getting rid of the flag” (Pinch the Penny? 1). The crowd cheered in excitement, and readying for the upcoming battle taking place the next day.

Little did the Pennyites know, the Penny Eliminators were going in for a surprise attack that very night. Slowly, but surely, the soldiers crawled across the field of wheat. General Owen turned to his men and said, “As sure as the chaff of the wheat is blown away in the wind, so too will our enemies be blown away after the morn is over.” The soldiers took their positions. Half stayed back as the other half began to take captive the enemies inside the fort. Five men charged the front door with a battering ram covered in five dollar bills. They did this to prove that Lincoln’s face would still present itself on the front of the five dollar bill if the penny was eliminated (Grey 2). Commander Grey rushed through the broken door, taking captive Commander Guidone of the Pennyites. Commander Guidone hid behind her shield embroidered with the words “Penny = Tradition”. However, the shield was no match for Commander Grey’s dragon shout, similar to the dragon shout found in Bethesda’s game, Skyrim (The Elder Scrolls V). Grey shouted, “Faal Lahvu Dreh Ni Jihai Faal Hrekim”, which literally translates from Draconic to English as, “The army does not use the coin” (Grey 3). Almost immediately, Guidone was blown tens of miles away, never to be seen again. Commander Grey turned and saw other Pennyites cowering in fear. “And just so you know, throughout history, Americans have defined patriotism by talking about past military achievements, and the support for American troops” (CBS NEWS). Everything went silent. That is, until one of the Pennyites screamed like a little girl being attacked by a spider. The Pennyites dug a hole in the fort wall and scurried off in hopes of securing a new fort for the future.

Months passed and no battles were fought. The nation glued their eyes to their televisions in anticipation, wondering if and when the Pennyites would rise and do something. Suddenly, Taylor Swift came on the air and started talking about the terrible effects the penny has had on the world. Just then, Kanye West came up on stage and grabbed the mic, saying something along the lines of, “Taylor, Imma let you finish, but the penny is the greatest coin of all time. All time yo.” He proceeded to shrug his shoulders and walk off the stage. Taylor Swift stood in silence as the whole crowd booed Kanye. All across the country, Penny Eliminators and Pennyites ran into the streets, ready to brawl it out to the bitter end. In the middle of Times Square in New York City, a spokesperson for Junior Scholastic was promoting pro-penny propaganda saying that if America rounded up to the nearest five cents, consumers would pay an extra $600 million every year (2). However, the speech was quickly broken up when dozens of Penny Eliminators rushed the scene screaming, “It’s only $2 a person!” (Junior Scholastic 2). Fists started swinging, and in no time at all, the whole city of New York was fighting. Luckily, the Penny Eliminators had backup – and with pick-it signs. One of the signs had a picture of Commander Susan Headley melting down pennies, saying, that even Pennyites were melting down pennies since the metals they are made of are worth more than the monetary value of the penny (Wikipedia Penny). Another sign stated that over the past couple of years (2005 to 2011 to be exact), the United States lost $129 million due to the production of the penny (Copper Pennies). In an unexpexted turn of events, Barbara Hagenbaugh, previous spokesperson for the Pennyites, pledged her allegiance to the Penny Eliminators when she said, “About $10.5 billion, or $93.75 [in pennies] per household, is sitting idle” (2). And just to add salt to the freshly made wound, General Owen of the Penny Eliminators stated, “The penny is worth so little now, that if someone were to take longer than 4.9 seconds to pick up a penny off the ground, they would be earning less than the Federal minimum wage” (3). The Pennyites went berserk.

A man, by the name of He Man, who was sleeping, was awoken by all the commotion. He stepped outside and he said, “Hey! What’s going on?” (Youtube Heyyeyaaeyaaaeyaeyaa). A follower of the Penny Eliminators turned to He Man and said, “Have you not heard? Can you not see? The day of war has come! The heat of the battle is here, now! The night is always darkest before the dawn – and we must preserve the union, we must fight to eliminate the penny from this wretched place!” He handed He Man a Juggernaug, a patriotic drink that makes one able to take twice the damage as usual, and they dashed into the battle (Call of Duty: Black Ops). The two took out enemy soldiers one by one, throwing punches, dodging fists, all the while serving a steaming hot plate of justice. Hours passed and all that remained were the Penny Eliminators. Justice had truly been served. He Man climbed the pile of beaten Pennyites, held up a penny, and melted it down with a military grade lighter to symbolize the end of the long, hard struggle. Across the nation Pennyites laid down their fists in light of the news, all to be deeply humiliated at their poor effort in the war for centuries to come.

The following day, the P.O.T.U.S. delivered an awe-inspiring speech, which said, “For years the Penny Eliminators fought the so-called un-American Pennyites in hopes of getting rid of the worthless piece of metal. The end of the war has come, and peace may now be restored to the country. The Penny Eliminators successfully preserved the union, helped promote the general welfare for the citizens of the U.S., helped create a more patriotic society in America, and secured the blessings of liberty to America and to America’s posterity. The nation is forever in debt to the brave souls who risked their lives for such a great cause. Thank you to all who were part of the Penny Eliminators. You saved the nation from utter destruction that was inevitable were the Pennyites to succeed in this endeavor.”

My Essay Numero Uno

Honors College Essay

Forged within the depths of the earth by eggplants, trained by the fiercest wolves in the largest forests, is who I am. Deal with it.

Judge me. Keep doing it, fool. Nothing can stop me now.

My past is a past shrouded in mystery and hidden within a bucket of deceptions. I tell you who I am, but is it really me? The answer is yes, and no.

As David Allen once said, “You can do anything, but not everything.” After much thinking and many thoughts I have come to the conclusion to conclude that I would agree to disagree with this quote. When I was but a wee lad my father spanked my bottoms as red as cherries because I said I could do anything. After those spankings I learned my place in the world: buttocks up, face down. Tears would only suffice for a lesser man, which I was.

Skip ahead about 5 or 6 hours. Now go back 4 hours and ahead a couple of years. Wait, too far. Back a little. Good. What do you see? Yes, that is me. As you can see, I am walking into a prestigious University’s Financial Aid office begging for more dinero. The Secretary is now leading me to the Director of Financial Aid’s personal office. When that terrible man saw me he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, tossed me over his leg, and did a windmill on my rump.  I deserved this punishment, even if I didn’t know what it was for.

These two experiences, specifically, changed the way I look at lyfe. However, the MMORPGs (Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games) I played turned me back into the El Ruthless Conquistador that I really was. People would always PM (personal message) me, but I never gave a carp; I ignored their requests like the Incas ignored the Spanish revolutionists in Beliz (The event later spurred the making of the movie Les Miserables).

Although sometimes defeated by many warlocks, I continued to follow the mission that was ordered of me, for logic transcends all knowledge.

Suddenly I awoke. I had been gaming for dos years straight-no food,no water, no human interaction (I only played the bots). I had a 3 inch thick layer of Cheeto dust crusted in between my second and third chin. Apparently i had survived through osmosis. The doctors told me I had 2 minutes to live. I decided to spend my precious remaining milliseconds writing an essay of who I am and what I had become.

This was two years ago.

I would love to say I was able to move on from this moment of my life and start to really live, but sadly I cannot. Marilyn Monroe so eloquently describes the reasoning behind this when she said, “I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle.” However the difference between Marilyn and I is that I am quite easy to handle. I think you would best understand me if I told you the event directly after being released from the hospital.

It turns out that while I was on the most ultimate gaming streak in history, my family abandoned me and left me with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt. So what did I do next? I left behind a ton of red herrings, along with some regular herrings (obviously bought with the overcharged credit cards), in hopes that the popo would be distracted by both the bright colors and the bad smell.

But it’s like my momma always said, “Life is like an ocean, son, and some day you are bound to drown in it.” This may have a been a harsh lesson to learn, but a lesson that  was vital to sustaining my life force after the incident. A few seconds later the cops figured out where I was and tackled me to the ground. Scared, I started hyperventilating. Something just didn’t seem quite right though. I was right about that.

My whole family jumped out from behind a bush, causing me to hyperventilate again. Apparently the whole incident with the cops was some “April Fool’s Day Joke” or something like that. Needless to say I was not amused. But it’s like a wise old man once said, “Destroy no leaves and be real. Destroy one leaf and be a poser.” It’s a good thing I took those words to heart when I first heard them, because I made sure to always keep it real. In fact, I kept it so real that I learned a lesson from that prank.

That may not have been my entire life story, but I think that story sums up pretty much

everything that influenced me to be who I am today. Although I may not be entirely impressed

with myself and my story, it’s who I am, so deal with it.

FAQ Requests

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night and really have to pee, but never know why you have to? Well that, good sir (or madam) is a frequently asked question (or a FAQ). Here at Duckman Headquarters *cough* my parents house *cough* we, or should I say 'I', am willing to take some of my ever so valuable time to answer a question you have about DuckmanConnections, or whatever else you want answered*.

Leave your questions as a comment, or email at duckmanconnections@gmail.com (you can just copy and paste that sucker into the address bar in your very own email account - it ain't that hard bub).

When/if I ever get some responses (like anybody reads this carp nowadays) I will post a new post with the answers, or just create a new page so 'errybody can view it for eternity - seeing as though this is the internet kiddos. 

Knowing how long its been since the last post, don't get your hopes up too high that this new post will come up anytime soon. Although, you never know what can happen, am I right? (Please don't answer that).

*questions are subject to my choosing (so don't ask me a question if you suck as asking questions) and all answers may not be right. Blah blah blah, boring legal crap you don't care about or read because it all seems like a bunch of nonsense anyways and you don't have enough time in your busy lives to even glance at these last few sentences. You just saw the asterisk and read the first nine words or what may have you and just closed the tab never to ask a question or visit this lonely page ever again, and I don't blame you for that either.

Hardy boys with a twist of Duckman

            

                                             The REAL Hardy Boys

                As Frank and Joe, two well known sleuths, crept up on the assailant, Joe let out a squeak.

                “Ahem” he said, clearing his gizzard.”Why exactly did you pinch me, Frank?”

                “There he is,” replied Frank. The pair soon forgot about the incident and proceeded to crawl in the direction of the subtle murmurs. A voice called from the cover of the dense foliage “I love you.”

                Frank whispered “Joe, did you hear that?”

                Joe replied “Of course I heard it. I said it.”

                Frank shuddered “Were you talking to me?”

Before Joe could properly address the question, Frank had a 12 gauge leveled at Joe’s head.

                “ANSWER ME!” Frank bellowed.

Joe, being of a sissy nature, stammered “Uh…   no. I was, um, talking to the air. Sir”

As Frank lowered his weapon, Joe heaved a sigh of relief.

                “I knew you were too weak to shoot me.” Snapped Joe. And with that, Frank fired a round into Joe’s bulletproof fanny-pack.

                “Well, that’s convenient.” muttered Joe.

After the resounding blasts, the boys heard a pair of footsteps and heavy breathing disappearing deeper into the forest. The duo jumped up and sprinted after the fugitives. Dashing left and right, the pair deftly maneuvered through the lethal traps; leftovers from the Vietnam War. They rounded a bend and suddenly were standing in an open clearing. Joe, realizing what needed to be done, bent over and ripped a new one. He then stood up with the freshly picked peach flower in his clutches.

                “Here you go, Frank.” Joe muttered.

                Frank, not understanding Joe, mumbled back “togaphaslishiwop.”

                “What?” Joe replied needing clarification.

                Frank exclaimed  “Now who’s not listening.”

Upon hearing this, Joe began to cry. Frank slapped him and commanded

                “Don’t be such a baby.”

                Suddenly, the fugitive stepped into the clearing and they recognized her at once.

                “Mom!”  Frank and Joe chanted. She reached into her pocket and withdrew Joe’s pacifier – his Nike Air Jordans.

                “Mom.” Joe whined. “I never thought I’d get these back.” To which she replied

                “O Joey poo, I just needed them in order to capture John and Jane Doe, the real fugitives.”

                As she finished speaking Frank and Joe lunged at her, toppling her over. As Joe kicked dirt in her

face, he shouted

                “You’re not my mom and you never will be. I knew you were Jane Doe.”  With that, the boys tied her up with the Nike shoelaces. As they turned around to walk back, their assailant grabbed them by the neck and pitched them on the ground.

                She shouted “your Nike Velcro shoelaces suck!”

While she was unclipping her 9mm from her holster, she exclaimed,

“Eat this boys. Time for some Russian Roulette-American style.” She loaded one bullet and slowly pulled the hammer back*, placing the lone projectile in the apparatus.

                Suddenly a deep husky voice called out “Draw!”

                As Joe whipped out his sketchpad and crayons, Jane Doe whirled around to face the undoubting stranger. What she saw made her jaw drop. It was Shaggy and Scooby.  Shaggy in that the man had blue feathers. Scooby in that his beak looked like a scuba diving respirator. As soon as the feminine character fainted, the duckman’s monkey scrambled over to the woman and picked her up. Duckman strode over, picked up the firearm, and then heaved it at Joe.

                “What the heck?” Frank screeched.

                “He was wearing my fanny pack” Duckman replied.

                “But did you have to kill him for it?” questioned Frank.

With that, Joe dizzily sat up and unzipped his fanny pack. He revealed another fanny pack and handed it to Duckman.

                “I believe you lost this” Joe pointed out.

                “I believe you lost this” mocked Duckman. “Real men don’t sport midsection satchels” he pointed out.

                With that, Joe unclipped his fanny pack and handed it, as if it were a dirty diaper, to Frank, all the while saying “I believe you lost this.”

                Frank, feeling offended, replied “I believe you lost this” as he removed a brain from his pocket.

                “Where did you get that?” exclaimed Joe. “I keep that in my pocket.”

                Frank looked down and sure enough, he was wearing Joe’s jeans.

                “Ladies,” Duckman boomed. “Let me handle this.”

                In an attempt to calmly extinguish the hostilities, Duckman swiftly ripped Joe’s pants off of Frank, exposing Frank’s undergarments.

                Joe shouted, “What the? Those are my boxers, Frank.”

                “Oh yeah, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Replied Frank.

With that, Duckman slowly walked away with his head down in disgust for he knew that nothing could save the Hardy boys.

The Adventures of Duckman: The Last of the Communists

          Anti-aircraft bullets whizzed past Duckman’s slightly overgrown beard as holes began to appear in the wings of his second favorite pre World War II biplane.

          “Curses,” Duckman muttered under his breath.  “I guess it’s time to bail,” he thought.  He gripped the side of the pilot’s chair and launched himself out of his seat.  He plummeted towards the Earth and pulled the ripcord on his parachute approximately 750 feet from the ground.  He pulled off his parachute, surveyed the scene, and came to a terrible realization.  He had not, in fact, landed on the sandy beaches of the Bahamas, but had gone slightly off course and was now relatively 10 miles north of Moscow, Russia, sitting on the frozen tundra. “Guess I better change out of my swimming trunks,” Duckman thought, looking down at his shivering, half naked body.  His satchel slammed into the landscape just six feet to his right.  He walked over to the satchel, reached inside, and pulled out his favorite pair of trousers.  Duckman put on the satchel, and looked at the rising sun to decide which way he should go. Deciding south would probably be the best way to travel, he began trudging along a winding dirt path, heading toward the capitol.  He finally reached the sidewalks of civilization and was carefully trying not to step on any of the cracks when he heard small, muffled sniffles from behind a small bush.  Alarmed, he walked toward it, and peeked over it.  A small girl, not yet 10, had her head buried in her hands, and was weeping and shaking uncontrollably. Duckman pulled a blanket out of his satchel, and soothingly questioned, "What is wrong, my child?"

            The girl, not even looking up, quivered uncontrollably and tears streamed down her face.  Duckman wrapped the blanket around her. Sitting quietly with her, Duckman tried to comfort her.  She unclenched her fists, and a crushed paper fell out. Duckman, suddenly thankful for those 2 forced years of Russian in high school, flattened it out, and began to read.

            "By order of the Spetznaz: Makarov Dostoevsky has been liquidated for his High Crime of spreading Western Propaganda."  Duckman's eyes began to well up with tears. 

            "How long ago did this happen?" He asked, praying the little girl understood the importance of this question.

            "About four hours ago," she sniffled.  Duckman scooped her up and brought her to one of his many safe houses. He quickly made her some hot chocolate and ensured she was comfortable.  He handed care of the girl over to one of the members of his syndicate.

            Duckman hopped on his snowmobile, and punched "Russian work camp" into his Garmin.  The device pinpointed the camp at about 23.2 miles north northwest of Kazakhstan.  He engaged the thruster boosters and the auto pilot and dozed off.

            The Garmin gently awoke him, and Duckman looked around.  The snowmobile was just coming to a stop and Duckman could see lights coming from a small settlement.  Duckman got off the snowmobile and trudged toward the settlement.  As Duckman neared, he heard drunken laughs coming from the house closest to the only gate of the walled-in settlement.  He snuck past a guard at the entrance and peeked inside the door.  Men were laughing and drinking large amounts of alcohol. Two of the fifteen had goiters. AK-47's lined the wall and Duckman stepped a little closer to get a better view. As his foot reached forward, he slipped on a vodka bottle and fell face flat on the ground. The startled men reached for their guns and took aim at Duckman.

            "Well what do we have here?" a voice bellowed from the back. The men strafed to the side to make way.  "Do you think you can just come in here uninvited?" he mocked.  Duckman looked at him.

            "Yuri, I presume?" Duckman guessed, knowing Yuri was a common Russian name.  The leader walked up to him and spat in his face.

            "No, my name is not Yuri. My name is Boris. And you, you are trespassing, an offense punishable by death," Boris spat.  Duckman knew he would have to act quickly.  He picked up the vodka bottle he had tripped on, and whipped it at the wall.  The men buckled over, partially because of the noise, but probably more because they were drunk.  Duckman sprinted out and was stunned by the horrible sight he saw.  Over 100 people were slaving away in the cold with minimal protection from the elements. Duckman suddenly realized his own dire situation and bolted toward the only opening the fence, hockey-checked the guard at the entrance, jumped on his snowmobile, and sped away. He looked back.  No one appeared to be following him, so he stopped over near the cover of some trees and built a quick shelter.  He also began to start a plan to free the prisoners.  He realized the best way to free them from bondage would be to blow out the back wall, and cover the prisoner's exit while they escaped. He pulled a long range telephone out of his satchel, and began phoning in some favors.  He was promised a predator drone, 14 full sized vans, and "assistance".  Just before he was about to set out for the mission, the "assistance" arrived in the form of a parachuting monkey named Bilbo.  Bilbo fashionably sported a top hat, a monocle, and the top part of a tuxedo, with a gold chain coming out of one of the pockets.  Bilbo nodded at Duckman, who nodded back, and the two set out.  They snuck to the back of the camp and looked up at the skies.  Just barely, they saw their drone circling the area. He looked behind him, where 14 full sized vans were idling, waiting for the coming prisoners. The prerequisites fulfilled, Duckman set the plan into motion. He grabbed Bilbo, as was agreed earlier, and hurled him over the wall, to warn the prisoners of the coming missile and prepare them for the escape.  Duckman waited precisely 5 seconds, pulled the laptop out of his satchel, and commanded the predator drone to drop a Hell Fire missile into the back of the wall.  The missile thundered toward the ground.  Guards began to yell, some even for their "мать”.  It blew out the back wall and a rush of prisoners flooded out of the camp and into the waiting the vans. Although they all tried to pile in, all but two could fit. Two burly men looked at the wretched souls outside.

            "Here, take my spot," one said.

            "Mine too" the other quickly added. The two men got out and looked around.  Duckman slammed the door shut on the van and all the vans closed their doors and sped away.

            "We are going to have to cover their tracks.  Quick, help me blow up these balloons good sirs," Duckman said, as he pulled out 140 prisoner shaped balloons, "and please, grace me with your names."

            "Well my name is Yuri and this Vladimir," Yuri spoke, picking up a balloon.  Bilbo grabbed a few balloons and started filling them up.  Once they were all blown up, Duckman tied them to his back.  He pulled out two modified Segways with chains on the tires out of his satchel and threw them to the men.  The men hopped on and revved the 8 cylinder engines.

            "Follow me," Duckman commanded and took off running.  They followed and the faint sound of barking began to assault the party's ears.  The whir of helicopter blades also erupted as one took off from the camp. Duckman looked for cover, and found it in the means of a coniferous forest, one of many in Russia. The group sped into the forest, with the attack dogs gaining ground.  Without warning, the alpha male attack dog overtook Duckman, jumped at him, and began reaching and snapping for his neck. Duckman reached for the dog's neck, but missed, and the dog took advantage of this chance. Suddenly, a furry entity ripped the dog off Duckman.  Duckman looked over at his savior and realized he was just delivered by a Siberian Tiger, one of just 343 existing in the wild.  He was about to thank the tiger when it turned around.

            "Fly, you fools!" it rasped, and then took out another attack dog.  Duckman, taking his words quite literally, pulled a remote out his satchel, punched in the secret pass code, and gazed at the balloons.  They began inflating more, and the two men looked at Duckman questioningly.

            Duckman held up his hands like he was about to say something profound and explained, "Helium".  He grabbed the two men just as the cases holding the helium fell off and the balloons whipped into the air. The trio soared into the air – right into the firing range of the waiting Kamov Ka-50.  The helicopter began spinning up its guns right as Duckman handed Yuri to Vladimir. Duckman quickly ripped his trusty Strela-3 out of his satchel and locked on to the helicopter. The bullets from the helicopter began tearing through the balloons when Duckman fired the rocket out of the launcher.  The helicopter exploded in a fiery mess and Duckman quickly looked up to survey the damages.  He had lost 1/4 of his balloons to the gun and the trio was descending quickly. Duckman steered the company toward the border and touched down just 500 feet into the border of Mongolia.  Duckman herded the men into his waiting gold plated stretch limo. 

            "Wow, Duckman, I was getting a little worried.  Back there with the helicopter, I thought I might be adding to Russia's population decline. Got anything else in that satchel of yours?" Yuri jokingly asked. With that question, Duckman pulled out three ice cream cones.

            "Here you go boys, and good work," he joked as he handed them the delicious treat.  Duckman began to doze off when he was suddenly gripped by a terrible awareness: He had forgotten Bilbo.

Duckman; Last Moments of Chilean Bondage

The world turned to a blur as Vladimir punched Duckman across the face again. Duckman felt the flesh on his forehead tear open; a drop of blood dripped down the side of his cheek.

“Always remember this Duckman: because of your failure, the endangered pandas you tried to save will be experimented on with dangerous drugs for the rest of their lives,” sputtered Vladimir. Ever since that fateful day, Duckman vowed to dedicate his life to ridding the world of the injustice that plagued it.

The memory began to fade away and Duckman found himself standing at the end of a dark hallway. He noticed an ominous door on the opposite side and starting walking toward it. Duckman reached forward and pulled the door open; General Nelson Miles was sitting behind the large oak desk.

            “I have a very important message for you, Duckman,” Miles stated.

            “Lay it on me, Miles.”

            “Well, to put it plainly, the fabric of the universe is being torn apart.”

            Duckman ripped the dark shades off his face. “Great Scott! Not again!” Duckman paced around, wondering what to do next. “Give me the rundown, Miles,” he beckoned.

            “It all started 47 years ago, on a night not quite like tonight. Back in Chile the government was taken over by a military junta. Their leader, Augusto Pinochet, decided to dismiss the junta’s plan and rule the government alone,” Miles explained.

            “I’ll go back in time and take care of this problem once and for all,” Duckman replied.

“Surely you can’t be serious.”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

“Unfortunately, the time machine has been malfunctioning recently, so we can only go back about 31 years. However, going back to 1980 will still give you enough time to defeat Augusto Pinochet and stop him from killing thousands of people,” Miles reported.

            Duckman stepped into the time machine. He turned to his right: chose the time period of 1980, and turned the destination dial to Chile. Lights began to flash; a high pitched sound rang out. Suddenly Duckman appeared in a building located in the heart of Valpraíso.

            Duckman whipped around and spotted a door leading to a hallway. Just as he was about to leave the room, he heard two voices talking to each other. Luckily Duckman always carried a Babelfish with him, so he could understand the foreigners’ language as though they were speaking English.

            “Seriously, I heard a strange noise coming from the room over there! Let’s just check it out, and if I’m wrong, I’ll give you a free coupon for Allegretto,” one guard said to another.

            Afraid of getting caught, Duckman searched the room for a place to hide. Due to his lightning fast reflexes, he spotted a grate leading to the ceiling ducts within seconds. Duckman jumped up into the duct and secured the grate back in place, just as the two guards entered the room. Slowly, but surely, Duckman crawled through the duct until he came upon another room.

            Just as he was about to jump down, Duckman realized that there were another two guards: one sitting by a computer, the other standing next to the door. Duckman looked intently and saw that one of the guards name was Tomás Torres. He heard them talking to another person; Duckman listened.

            “Don’t worry Mr. Pinochet; the 20,000 people we captured are hidden in Cerro de el Muerto. It’s practically impossible for anyone to find them,” Tomás Torres said.

            “Perfect. Now all we have to do it ready the missile to blow that mountain to smithereens,” responded Pinochet.

            Duckman knew this was his time to shine. He punched through the grate and jumped down into the room.

            “WHAT TH…” Duckman knocked Tomás out cold before he could even finish his sentence. Duckman quickly turned around and round-house kicked the other guard against the wall. He ran to the desk the computer was on and opened the drawers.

            “Every time,” Duckman stated as he pulled out two pieces of rope. He then tied both men to chairs and locked them in separate closets. Duckman rushed over to the computer, typed in multiple numbers and letters, and tried to figure out where Pinochet was hiding. Duckman picked up the two-way radio and started talking to Pinochet.

            “You won’t get away with this act of injustice, Pinochet. I will free those prisoners if it’s the last thing I do.” Duckman could only hear the sound of breathing, when suddenly a voice came from the other side.

            “Go ahead, make my day,” Pinochet responded. Duckman heard a noise coming from under the desk, and decided to see what it was. He flipped the desk over, and to his surprise, Duckman saw Pinochet cowering underneath where the desk once was.

            “It appears that you have found me,” Pinochet sneered. “Little did you know, I am a master in *MAGIC*!” Pinochet threw a cherry bomb at the ground and jumped out the window. Duckman jumped out the window to follow Pinochet, and found himself amongst a large festive crowd.

            “Why don’t you celebrate Fiestas Patrias by dancing the cueca with us?” asked Roberto, a celebrator. Although Duckman would have instinctively accepted the offer to dance, he had other important business to take care of.

            “I’m sorry sir, but I’m looking for a man: a man who is a master of magic,” Duckman said. He looked down at the ground and saw shards of glass and a trail of blood. Instantly Duckman knew it was Pinochet’s, and began to follow it.

            About 20 minutes later, Duckman happened upon a large abandoned warehouse. He heard steps coming from inside, and decided to enter. Duckman opened the door and smelled something. It was the smell of evil. Duckman knew Pinochet was lurking nearby. Suddenly, a light flashed on and off. Duckman slowly walked over and into the room. He reached to his right and turned the lights on. Duckman saw Pinochet holding a gun to a panda’s head.

            “Take one more step and the panda gets it,” Pinochet threatened. Duckman looked behind Pinochet and saw the timer for the missile: only 10 seconds until the launch.

            “Duckman, please don’t let this evil man kill me like you let Vladimir do to my kind 20 years ago,” the panda pleaded. A tear dripped down the side of the panda’s cheek. Suddenly, Duckman flashed back to his first mission and remembered the hundreds of endangered pandas that he let die.

            “There’s always a choice,” Pinochet said. “Either you save the panda, or you save the people.” Duckman jumped in the air, kicked Pinochet against the wall, and grabbed the panda. Just as Duckman was about to leave the room, Pinochet shot him in the leg and died.

            “We have to get out of here! I strapped C4 everywhere!” Duckman yelled. He sprinted toward the door, when his shot leg gave out and he fell to the floor. The panda stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Duckman, lying helplessly on the ground.

            The panda looked at the door, then back at Duckman. He took a few steps and put Duckman man his back. “Thanks for saving me, pal,” the panda said. The panda and Duckman made it out of the building just as it blew up into a big fiery mess.

            Duckman carefully removed the bullet from his leg and wrapped the wound with some cloth he found on the ground. Duckman stoop up, and he and the panda walked over to the building where Duckman first appeared and stepped into the time machine.

            Ten years passed. Duckman was sitting on his couch at home. The phone rang, and Duckman stood up to answer it. It was the panda; he wanted to meet Duckman as a nearby coffee shop. 20 minutes later, Duckman sat down at a booth near the window. “Just a regular, please,” he told the waiter.

            The two talked about life for a while, when the panda brought up the incident back in Chile. “Even though you killed those people to save my life, Duckman, you did a good thing that day.”

            Duckman nodded his head. He took a sip of his coffee, and looked out the window at the sun setting, knowing for a fact that he didn’t actually let 20,000 people die that day. Duckman smiled to himself, not having the heart to tell the panda that his life wasn’t even worth one of their lives.

TPW

Update

Although we haven't posted in quite some time, we are going to have quite a few new posts starting right away in the new year.

We already have 4 already typed stories, so make sure to get everyone to come starting January 1 to check them out!

Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday Mr. Paul Witte!