April 19, 2013


Uborka has declared it National Duck Day, and today we are going to learn more than we wanted to know about ducks. To receive your cocktail, please waddle, quacking, to the table with your name on it. We have three tables today: the Sophisticated Swans; the Cosmopolitan Crested Ducks, and the Orville Table of Disrepute. I could stop writing now, because clearly you can already guess who will be allocated to which table.

For those who have already drunk too much to figure that out, I’ll describe them for you.

Sophisticated Swans
Obviously Mark, Mrs Mark, and duckling Mark will take up most of this table with their posh wine and designer shoes. Your wine is served just as you like it, and accompanied by slivers of finely baked crostini with duck liver pate and other nice spreads. The mallardly elegant Dr Pockless has put in an appearance today, and can sit here as long as he doesn’t draw on the linen napkins. And could you save a place for Turquoise Lisa and her brood.
I hope the company at the other tables is not too… unsavoury.

Cosmopolitan Crested Ducks
This is the table for Lori and as many of her cosmopolitan family as she wishes to include, with english sparkling wine on ice waiting for Madame Manda to finish her marathon. Here is where you sponsor her for the awesome feat of running to space, for sex. I hope you ladies don’t mind if I park Sevitz and Pete, aka the chick and the duck here; you’ll agree they don’t belong on the sophisticated table. Please also welcome back hero of this week’s interview, that old coot Mike.
Your snack is roasted duck leg with rosti and braised red cabbage, which is one of my favourite things ever.

Orville’s Table of Disrepute
The cultural reference may well be lost on some of the frinkers at this table, as will most other things, considering the quantities of booze, any booze, they are planning to put away. America has had a shocking week, and Krissa will be drowning sorrows for the entire nation, alongside Asta and Pixeldiva.
You’ll also notice a long line of those moreish espresso martinis for Anna, a merganser of the finer type.
They’re going to need a lot of cubes of stale bread to soak that lot up.

Bottoms up!


12 thoughts on “Quacktails

  1. My fellow Orvillian Disreputables, it’s an honor to get properly stinking blotto in such fine company.

  2. Bums. Missed cocktails. Can I have a Delayed Dutch Duck Daiquiri? Both appropriate (I’m late, in Haarlem and thinking about ducks – well, maybe the first two) and alliterative. Please and thank you.

  3. Oh, you make me quack up. It’s a mallardy, being as funny as you.

  4. I think it’s time I confiscated everyone’s beer, but you can keep your ducks.

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