The Yellow Duck and the Printing Press

The Yellow Duck had never been more excited. He couldn't believe his luck! He was in a room with an enormous printing press!

"Wow!" he yelled. "I wonder how many newspapers they print here!"

The Yellow Duck began to wonder around, looking in awe at the huge rolls of paper.

"That roll of paper is as big as a pond!" he whispered to himself. "Wow!"

He watched as rolls of paper were fed through the giant machine. At the end, solid sheets of newspaper came out and stacked on top of each other. He waddled over and delicately touched it with his wing. "Wow!" he said, jerking his wing off. "It's still hot. And wet!" The Yellow Duck's wing was now covered in black ink.

Ignoring his inky wing, the Yellow Duck scampered off to look at the giant rolls of paper. The rolls were stacked on top of each other as high as he could see. The Yellow Duck wanted to get a closer look. He stood on a box and reached as far as he could, stretching his wings as far as they would go. He still couldn't reach.

"Hmmm," he thought to himself. The Yellow Duck pulled the box next to a bigger box and stood up on it. He reached as high as he could, standing on the tips of his little webbed feet. He still couldn't reach.

"This is ridiculous," the Yellow Duck said, now clearly annoyed. He pulled both boxes up next to a tall barrel. He climbed both boxes and climbed on top of the barrel. He stood on top and reached as high as he could, wings outstretched. Then he heard a creaking sound.

"What-"

The top of the barrel collapsed and the Yellow Duck fell down into the barrel. Much to his dismay, the barrel was filled with ink! The Yellow Duck now found himself flailing about in a tall barrel of thick black ink. He flapped his wings with all his might, but he couldn't get out of the barrel. His feathers stuck to each other, covered in the thick ink.

"Help!" the Yellow Duck yelled, spitting ink out of his mouth. "Someone help me!"

He heard footsteps running over. Two shocked faces leaned over him. The Yellow Duck stared at them, annoyed.

"Excuse me," he asked. "Could you help me get out of here please?"

"Wally, there's a duck in the barrel!"

"Get serious!"

"Seriously, Wally, there's a duck in the barrel!"

"A duck in the barrel! A real one? Who put him there?"

"I fell in!" the Yellow Duck cried. "Can you help me out? Please?"

"IT TALKS!" the two men looked at each other in panic.

"Of course I talk," the Yellow Duck rolled his eyes. "Can I get out now?"

The two men were still staring at him floating in the ink.

"Is it magical ink, or a magical duck?" one whispered.

"Is it a trick? Is there a ventriloquist around here?"

"Should we touch him?" the first one whispered.

"This is ridiculous." the Yellow Duck rolled his eyes. "Fine. Quack quack quack quack quack!"

"I think it wants out!" one of the men scooped him out and held him dripping over the barrel. "Get me a towel, Wally!"

"Finally," the Yellow Duck shivered. "I'm very cold."

"Wally, it talked again!"

After a few more stares and several harsh glares from the now cold and annoyed Yellow Duck, the Yellow Duck had been cleaned off again. He had been given a bath in a sink and washed with Dawn, an experience that was so humiliating he pretended to fall in a dead faint until they were done. As soon as he was dried off, the Yellow Duck had stormed out of the office.

Later, the SA Kids editor received this note:

Dear Editor,

Thank you for inviting me to come see your offices. However, I'm afraid I can't return. I'm scared I'll fall in the big barrel of ink again. Also, Miss Kitty doesn't seem to like me much. If you see her, would you ask her to return my hat? T hanks.

The Yellow Duck.