Ok, so I'm in my room, right? I'm trying to go to bed, and then there's this duck and he's like, "I'm a duck." And I try to be polite, and say to the duck, "Be quiet, I'm trying to sleep." But ducks are nature's jerks. It immediately started quacking like a madman, preventing me from sleeping. And the thing is, if you kick a duck, that just makes more ducks. It's how they breed. And then you get two noisy ducks, and it just gets worse from there.
The only real solution is to tell the duck, clearly and resolutely, to shut up. And if it doesn't shut up, you will hire a french chef to cook it into a lightly browned delicious dish served with asparagus and alfredo.
You will tell the duck he will be delectable, a delicacy fit for kings, though perhaps not really good kings like Charlemagne, but a decent king, one that is somewhat respected by his people by being fair, even if he's not the best possible leader. I mean, he was born into the role, he didn't pick his life, and you can't really judge him on the fact that he wasn't the best choice. Monarchy doesn't make for those kind of decisions.
So, long story short, the duck still didn't shut up, and so I ate him.
A bit tough, though. Maybe if he hadn't have quacked so much he would have tasted better.
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