Duck!

Someone was knocking at the door. Knocking loudly. Knocking like cops knock. The thought of cops knocking loudly sent an alarm through his central nervous system that penetrated what had been unconsciousness up until now.

What in the hell could the cops want?

As he drifted quickly toward a full state of consciousness he wondered why he should even care if the cops were knocking. He had never had any run-ins with the police. His eyes opened fully. As he tried get them to focus, another jarring set of knocks rattled the door that was directly in front of him about 8 feet away.

Who in the hell was banging on the door?

Where did that door lead? As he looked around he realized that he had no clue as to where he was. He didn't recognize the room at all. Not that there was much to recognize. He found himself dressed in grungy old jeans and a fowl smelling t-shirt sitting on a dirty, grimy patchwork quilt that covered what smelled like a pile of rotting corpses. Although he didn't know it at the time, the word "pop" was written in lower case letters across his forehead. As he felt around, he felt what seemed to be the frame and threadbare covering of an old broken down couch. It smelled repulsive.

He felt something else too. On his wrist he felt the cold steel of what turned out to be one side of a set of handcuffs. The other side was locked firmly around the handle of a metal briefcase. The case hade two combination locks on either side of the handle that were both securely locked as well.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

The door was a thin, hollow core type that appeared to almost give way as whoever it was brutalized it's other side.

He had to do something. He looked around the small studio apartment that was devoid of any furnishings except the couch that smelled like rotting flesh. A thin wire with material braided around it dangled from the center of the room. It was dirty and had cobwebs suspended from its base to the ceiling. A clear light bulb that was screwed into a receptacle at the base of the wire gave off a brash, uncomfortable, and unflattering light that made him squint.

Tap, tap, tap, bang, BANG!

Tap, tap, tap, bang, BANG!

The knocker seemed to have become a little playful with a new rhythmic sort of a knock that was still most insistent upon being answered.

What to do?

In one corner of the room he saw a dirty old sink mounted to the wall. It was the old porcelain kind that you might see in the bathroom of an old building built in the 1930's or 1940's. It was filthy and the porcelain was crackled like fixtures he had seen in antique shops. How did he know that? When had he been to antique shops? Why had he gone to antique shops? More important than that, who was he?

His thoughts staggered and shifted like the gears of an old tractor as he realized that he was actually asking that question of himself. It couldn't be. Why, he was...! He was...!

The answer just wouldn't come.

Bang, tap, tap, BANG, tap!

Tap, BANG, tap, tap, tap, BANG!

That damn banging again! He couldn't think straight with that damn banging going on!

Above the sink he saw the remnants of a broken mirror that was still affixed to the wall. Baby blue paint was peeling away from the wall revealing the old lath and plaster underneath. He rose to his feet and steadied himself on the arm of the couch before heading over to the sink and mirror. Maybe his brain would start working if he saw his familiar face looking back from the piece of mirror over the sink. He grabbed the handle of the briefcase quietly and tip-toed over to the sink as silently as he could so as not to alert whoever continued to bang on the door.

The banging stopped.

He could hear whispering on the other side of the door followed by what sounded like giggling. He wondered what in the hell was going on. He wondered if he had gone mad.

Maybe he had always been mad. He couldn't remember a damn thing!

He positioned himself in front of the mirror with his eyes closed, slowly took a breath, and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the word "pop" that had been scrawled across his forehead. Because he was looking into a mirror, "pop" didn't look like "pop" at all. Instead, it looked like the number 909. His level of confusion jumped up a notch. It leaped a mile even higher when he looked passed the number on his forehead and realized that he wasn't a he at all. He was, in fact, a she, and although she looked like she had been dragged down 40 miles of bad road, she was a very attractive looking she too.

She took a second and took a second inventory of what she realized was now herself. Long, soft, blonde hair; ample breasts; curvy hips, shapely butt; and...Whoa! Yes! She was definitely a woman from her head to her toes and everything in between!

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, BANG!

She heard giggles again on the other side of the door.

Whoever it was obviously knew that she was in there. They were giggling because of what the banging was doing to her, not because they found the banging funny in it's own right. She gave up on trying to be quiet and turned on the filthy cold water faucet to rinse her face. As she went to put her hand under the water she felt the uncomfortable tug of the handcuff and the briefcase that was still attached to her right wrist. She tried to remove her wrist by collapsing it and trying to pull it through the cuff, but the cuff was clasped too tight. Even if she had some butter, or some oil it would have been impossible to wriggle her wrist through.

She caught some cold water in her left hand and splashed it on her face. As she looked again into the mirror she had a realization. She grabbed up the briefcase and saw that it was locked with two combination locks. She quickly dialed the number 909 into both combination locks and to her surprise, amazement, and relief - both of the locks snapped open at once.

She lifted the cover of the briefcase. Inside she found what appeared to be the key to the handcuffs, and a single sheet of bright white typing paper. She picked up the typing paper and saw that there were several type written lines of words going across the very top. She paused long enough to try to use the key and found, in fact, that it did open the cuff. It had been hurting her and rubbing the area raw underneath where it had been positioned. She rubbed it with her left hand while she held the paper with her right and read the lines that were typed across the top.

If you think you know it all, you are headed for a fall.

You'll use your ears, and use your eyes, and hold your tongue, if you are wise.

DO WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY!

Bang, bang, bang, BANG, BANG, bang, bang, tap, tap.

It was like she was in some kind of a mad house. She didn't know what in the hell was going on, and things weren't getting any clearer. And damn that incessant banging! This charade had to come to an end. NOW!

She was more pissed than anything at this point. She let the adrenalin that had started flowing through her veins take control and march her toward the ever banged upon door that led to who knows where. Once in front of the door, she grabbed the knob braced herself for the unknown that was still banging like, well, like something that bangs without mercy that was still banging on the other side. Then, with all of the strength and courage she could muster, she opened the door wide with one super fast, sweeping motion.

There, on the other side of the threshold, where two beautiful, young, blonde girls. They were wearing t-shirts that had 3 Greek letters printed on the front - Chi, Delta, Omega. Although each of the girls was, indeed, beautiful, the one on the left looked like she had had her nose broken at one time - like a boxer. The one on the right was missing one of her front teeth. Each of the girls was holding a fairly large bird. They were each holding ducks, to be exact. They appeared to be about the same age as she was, and they began laughing uproariously.

"What? What?! What in the hell is going on around here?!" She demanded.

The girls stopped laughing and tried to look as serious as possible. Each girl stood as straight as possible, like they were each standing at attention. Then, the girl on the left began to speak in a most animated way.

"If it looks like a...," said the first girl. When she finished, she held up the duck she was holding.

"And it quacks like a...," said the second girl. As she spoke her line, she held up her duck and she gave it a little squeeze causing it to let out a loud, "Quack!"

Then, the two girls looked at each other, and in unison they yelled out, "YOU - SHOULD...," and with that, they both stepped back and away to either side of the doorway just as a large brick with a string tied around it came swinging from the top of the doorway.

POW! The lights went out!

The girls on the other side of the door began laughing uncontrollably. About 7 or 8 other beautiful young girls wearing t-shirts with the same lettering appeared from down the hall. Each had their own version of odd facial damage; a missing tooth, a broken nose, a broken cheekbone. Beautiful badges of honor, to say the least. The first two girls handed the ducks they had been holding to one of the girls who had just emerged, then they entered the room. The girl who had had her nose broken at one time walked over and grabbed the paper, and the key, and locked them once again inside of the briefcase. Then, she walked back over and re-cuffed the case to the wrist of the girl who had answered the door. She had been knocked out cold when the brick had swung down and hit her squarely in the face, again.

As they picked her up and positioned her back upon the filthy couch, the girl with the missing tooth giggled to the girl with the broken nose, "What a stupid little pledge! How many times has she done this now?"

The beauty with the broken nose stopped to count in her head. After a good ten seconds she finally said, "You know, I believe I have lost count!"

All of the girls started laughing so hard a few of them fell on the floor and kept laughing as they rolled around and slapped their legs, or held their stomachs.

"Ok, ok, ok, ok! Stop!" One of the girls said.

"We'll do this five more times. If she doesn't get it by then, she is out for good. Even if her mother was one of our founding sorority sisters, we have to draw the line if she is too dumb to DUCK!"

All of the girls agreed. They did what they could to compose themselves, and exited the room locking the door behind them as they left.

All was quiet for about 2 minutes, then...

Someone was knocking at the door. Knocking loudly. Knocking like cops knock.

"QUACK!"