Lost At Sea
Carried out by
Mzebonga & his mother.

Now, you’re talking.

So, how to continue my spell of mass slaughter against the peeps in a way in which was entertaining? Drown one? There’s something in that but it’s far too simplistic for the sort of thing we’re trying bring to you. Cast out to sea? Sure, I could do that but it would just bob away and I’d never see it again. Who knows where it would end up? That’s really not a very good idea. Dunk into a piranha tank and watch it getting slowly dismembered? Now, you’re talking.

Except for the fact that piranhas are somewhat hard to come by in the UK and have considerably better taste than to eat a peep. How could we combine these things in a format that would make good viewing for you guys? Push the peep out in shark-infested waters! That would be excellent; like those sharks that break the surface and lung at seals off the coast of South Africa or something. Except, I’m not going to South Africa any time soon. So, where in the UK can we find something like that: somewhere where the waters are unsafe for the sea-faring type?

The answer came quite quickly to mind. Sure it wasn’t a sea. Sure there were no sharks. But it was big enough for a peep to set sail on and it was populated with wildlife that may represent a hazard to a peep. Where could such a place be? To answer the conundrum concisely: the duck pond just around the corner from my parent’s house.

The ducks, being long-term allies of mine, were willing participants in this trial and were adequately compensated for the role they played. In fact, in an attempt to improve circumstances for the ducks and make life worse for the damn peep, we selected an extra special raft for it to set sail on: the crust of a loaf of bread.

Now, you’re talking.

Strangely, for this particular execution, I had an accomplice: my own mother. Having been particularly amused with the demise of her baking dish (which has been replaced) during the previous killing, she was quite keen to get involved on this occasion. Indeed, she donated all the bread for this feature to TheInsaneDomain.

Once at the local park, we contested for the attention of the ducks against a young mother and her child. Our more quiet approach from a vantage point nearer the water saw us emerge as the winners but we made up for being a couple of bastards by providing some choice amusement for the two losers in place of duck feeding.

Initially, the ducks seemed somewhat unnerved by the peep and ignored it in favour of the smattering of breadcrumbs we were peppering around its location. This actually created some stormy seas as the combined wakes of a dozen or more ducks tossed our tiny vessel around. It was a hardy ship and stood the test well remaining afloat throughout with the peep firmly affixed to the deck by the makeshift flagpole we had jabbed through its soft torso.

The crowd became somewhat more rowdy as the scraps of bread became scarce. At this point, the raft that was conveying the peep across the pond became a prime target for the swarming ducks. After a few abortive attempts, one of the more gluttonous ducks tore the raft from beneath the peep and left the piece of shit to the mercy of the tide. Of course, there was no tide but, within the confines of the pond, the ducks were creating wave effects as they fought for the bread we had dispatched.

Subject to the mercy of the current, the peep was tossed about on the water but showed no signs of going under or being carried away. In fact, it washed up next to the water’s edge in front of us and I duly fished it out hoping to flatten it in an attempt to make it sink faster.

This is where I was caught unawares… As I scouted around for something large and heavy to dash the peep’s brains out with, my mother duly took matters into her own hands. She picked up a stick, jabbed it into the peep and stuck it in the ground for all to see. I was stunned. I think peep killing has become something of a bad influence on her.

With nothing better to do about this situation, I plucked the peep off the branch (having captured the moment on camera), examined the new, rather large hole through its middle and decided that it should be tossed back into the lake.

So, for a further 45 minutes we watched the peep struggled to remain afloat under the occasional onslaught from curious ducks. Then we got bored. The damn thing refused to sink – I was faced with being foiled once more by a bloody peep. So, I attempted to fix a picture of the peep on the bottom. We collect a couple of logs from the bottom of the lake and used the cocktail stick to pin the peep to one. Placing this back into the water, we were amazed when the log floated. Discarding this (and watching it happily sink) we used the other log and did the same. Once more, the log floated.

In a fit of annoyance, I hurled the log into the middle of the pond only to watch despairingly as the peep bobbed back up to the surface.

Sufficiently amused by this, both of us admitted defeat and left the peep to slowly dissolve and meet its demise in an infinitely more drawn out manner.

Go ask him questions about this.

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