Unfortunate Victims Of A Bio-engineering Programme Gone Horribly Wrong, Surf Scoters Live Every Moment

Unfortunate victims of a bio-engineering programme gone horribly wrong, Surf Scoters live every moment of their life with a whole dinosaur skull in place of a bill. Fortunately for these malformed Melanitta the skull's mouth and nostrils are connected to the Scoter’s digestive and respiratory systems, but control of the skullmouth is retained entirely by the restless spirit of the long-dead dinosaur. 

Above, a Scoter grapples with the terrifying reality it is forced to endure while the grafted skull enjoys a tasty snack.

The line goes quiet.

You pull the phone away from your head to make sure it didn’t disconnect, which causes you to miss the first part of the Oriole’s response.

“-want me to do with this information. It doesn’t really change anything, does it?”

“I mean, not really,” you hesitate, “I just... I think maybe I was hoping you would have an opinion on it, that you would tell me you suspected or it surprised you or something. Does that make sense?” The note of pleading in your voice betrays how uncertain you are about the entire situation.

“I guess...” the voice on the other end responds, painfully unconvinced. “But you have to remember I never got to meet Jules, so I have no idea how you two got along. And you’ve posted what, half a dozen times on facebook since I left for school? Maybe if you were less of a shut-in recluse I might have been able to offer something worthy of consideration, here.”

You say nothing, the age-old accusation from your closest friend made all the more pointed in the years since they accepted a full-ride scholarship from out-of-state and left, immediately after going to ████████ without you. A fear grips your heart, that you are ossifying into a relic of the past, remembered fondly but not often thought of. This feeling is only strengthened as the Oriole continues:

“Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you were looking for but I gotta go, I’ve got stuff that needs checking on at the lab. Talk later!” she promises, but you know both that she will forget and you won’t work up the courage to call again.

“Goodbye.” you respond.

You hang up.

The Duck knows what you did. You thought you were unseen, that you got away with your crime. You are wrong. She knows, and she will extract payment for it in the currency most dear to you. Be prepared, for she is relentless in pursuit and long of memory; you may travel far and fast but she will always find your guilt. She smells it on you, the reek of wrongdoing, and no perfumed soap can hide it.

Ready yourself, for your reckoning is at hand.

After growing out of their childhood full of unfortunate musical tastes, Great Crested Grebes will often smoothly transition into cosplay. Like their distant cousins the Royal Terns, they tend towards cosplay of characters from moving picture shows or television serials. Above, a Great Crested Grebe parent pretends to be the Dilophosaurus which kills Dennis Nedry in the smash-hit docudrama Jurassic Park directed by Steven Spielberg.

A relic from a bygone era, Polish Chickens were specially bred for their large and fluffy feathers. Adept at collecting dirt and dust while gently wiping away smudges, these birds would often be used to clean and ‘put a shine on’ a large variety of objects. While they have largely been replaced by synthetic feather dusters in the modern era, they can still be found in the employ of people who truly appreciate vintage biotechnology.

“Did you see that thing I posted on Faceboook?” the Robin asks, while counting out the change from the transaction.

“I... what?” you respond, wholly unprepared for non-grocery related questions.

“The thing about the history of ████████! I think I tagged you in it. You went, right? I remember you talked about how important it was to you at the reunion a couple months back. How did it go?”

The additional context brings your mental lenses into clarity, and you can feel the heat creep into your cheeks from embarrassment. You were so spaced-out during the entire idle conversation that you completely missed the cashier is one of your second cousins. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to have noticed your lack of recognition but he looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Ah, yeah, no, I- I didn’t make it out,” you fumble for an excuse that isn’t exactly a lie: “I had some car trouble.”

“Ah that’s a shame,” the Robin says, handing over your bags, “I hope you do get to go soon, it sounds like it’s right up your alley. Have a good one!” he finishes, not waiting for a response before turning away to greet the next customer. You stuff the change in your pocket and the receipt in a bag.

You leave.