And the angel of the lord came unto me, snatching me up from my place of slumber.
And took me on high, and higher still until I was bigger and stronger than even baby ducks.
As I towered above them in horror and judgment, cries of impending doom rose from their beaks.
One thousand, nay a million quacks full of fear.
And terror possesed me then.
And I begged,
“Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?”
And the angel said unto me,
“These are the cries of next month’s dinner, the cries of the ducklings!
Soon they will be strong, young and fat and summer, to them, is the holocaust.”

Let me know what you think, yo.