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'...You're back.'

Yep. Here with another bedtime  story for you.

'I don't care how you continue, just- please continue.'

You really thought I wouldn't? Tch.. Typical. Not all Authors get a long time of hiatus.

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Present time
June 20th

     Duck watched from the shadows as a red version of himself took his seat. He sighed as he knew what was going to happen next.... The sketchbook was going to flip open. And it did.  'Eh...Probably just dêjä vü.'  Duck thought to himself, watching as sketchbook sang to them.

        But... He noticed something. He noticed Tony rushing to the bathroom. 'Tony doesn't need to go to the bathroom, He's a clock!'  Duck thought, narrowing his eyes before soon following him.

         "Time is a tool that you can put on the wall, or wear it on your-" "Tony?"  Duck interrupted. Tony turned around, and chuckled, "Oh! Hey Duck! Just uh- practicing my lines." "But doesn't the next song premiere... Tomorrow?"  Duck tilted his head. "Pfft-- No you silly Duck, All of the songs premiere on one single day! Don't you remember?" Tony laughed. Duck had always felt as if it had been a week at the time: but for them it was just your average day.

           Duck chuckled fakely, "Y-Yeah, silly me, forgetting things."  Tony smiled, "You'll be a great dissector." "W-What?"  Duck's eyes widened. "Hmm? What what?" Tony said, the clock arms on his face changing to a quarter past nine. "You told me.. T-That I'd be a great dissector?..."  Duck said, stepping back a bit.

            Tony looked surprised, and muttered something, "ⁱ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ...." Tony then ran out of the bathroom... "W-Wait! Come back here! W-What in the bloody- what were you talking about?"   Duck's angry and shocked voice called after him. But Tony kept running..... Running and running. Duck turned his head to look at the mirror..... Remembering how his organs were..... Dissected.

         Is that what Tony meant by 'You'll be a great dissector'?  No, Duck couldn't. Especially not a bird that... Was in his place. He couldn't- no- not him. Duck laughed, "Now why would a bird like me... Do such incorrigible things to another bird- l-like me?"

          But..... A voice in his head.... He could almost hear it whisper in response, reminding him of another memory..... "But there's lots of chicken left, and I'd like to eat that chicken."  Duck shot up his gaze at his reflection. That sounded like himself.

Did he really eat-

             He could hear the ringing noise get louder and louder, making all the other noises fuzzy and quiet. "And we have finished the chicken picnic."  Duck heard once more before the ringing tunes out all the other noises he could hear. And then....
Blank. White.  Black.  Went his vision..... His unconscious body dropping onto the floor.

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Word count: 473 words