Episode X: Still Playing with Your Donk

I woke up some time later with what felt like a blistering hangover. To be honest, I really only assumed it was what felt like a blistering hangover—having never actually had a hangover on account of being a duck—but all the telltale signs from my mental encyclopedia of college movies were there. The pounding headache. A twisting in my stomach so fierce it felt like an angry Amish woman was behind it, trying to force my English ways out of me by churning by insides as if they were butter.

I flopped over, ran a hand through my frill, and groaned, “Holy shit. Did I make it?”

I had expected to get the usual condescending remark from Dumbass in return, but all I got was a single thrice browed eye staring down at me.

“Oh. Hi Donk,” I said as I slogged my way to my hands and knees. “You know you didn’t have to stick around and see if I was okay.”

Donk blinked. “Donk did not stick around because Donk wanted to. Donk was… made to stay by Master Bawkman.”

“Master Bawkman, huh?” I groaned as I tried to stand to my feet. I stumbled, and Don steadied me with several pairs of his segmented arms. “Bastard didn’t even bother calling me a medic, I see.”

"I did not know that Master Bawkman was fatherless." Donk blinked. “And please do not speak of him so. He is a wise man and only has yours—and Donk’s—best interests in mind. His ways may be hard, but they are so for a reason… Flap.”

“Eh, maybe. But he’s still an asshole. Haha!” I laughed and looked to see Donk’s reaction. He was staring at me blankly with that big pupil eye of his. “Do you… even know what an asshole is, Donk?”

He shook his head and looked at the ground. "Donk not like discuss eating, let alone making excrement. Donk makes beings uncomfortable during both."

I felt a sickening pity wash over me as I watched my new friend. He seemed so innocent, so totally clueless, and yet here he was, sentenced to play in the same foul game as me. A game, I suddenly realized, that I knew so very little about.

I did the bug a favor and changed the subject. “Trials, huh? Pretty crazy stuff.”

“Oh yes, indeed!” Donk said, a bit of life seeping back into the insectoid. “Donk has had the honor to watch many Trials, and Donk is excited about the opportunity to win his innocence!”

I frowned. “Now, apologies ahead of time if this is a faux pas or anything—I’m kind of new to this whole interstellar community thing, but”—I grimaced and craned my head—“just what got you into this mess, Donk?”

His arms chittered the length of his body as he lowered his head in a gesture that—although alien—was easy to see as shame. “Donk committed a very serious crime. Very bad. Very bad. Donk deserved the Trials. Donk deserves what is coming to him.”

“That bad, eh? You, um, steal a car—I mean spaceship or something?”

Donk curled up like a pill bug. The resemblance was uncanny. “Much worse.”

“Um, drinking and flying?”

“Much, much worse.”

“No judgment here, pal.” I raised my hands. “Just pure curiosity. But I gotta know because, no offense, you don’t look like you got it in you. But… did you kill a guy, Donk?”

“Much, much, much, worse.”

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you tell me your thing and then I’ll tell you some of the dumb shit I’ve been through since I got like this.” I motioned at my still foreign hybrid body. “Why do you say, pal?”

He seemed to enjoy being called that. Pal. After a moment, the blue insectoid slowly uncoiled and stood to his full height. It was my first time seeing him stand all straight like this, and his height surprised me. He had me by at least a foot, if not more. “You promise… not to look down upon Donk? To not let Donk be your…”

“Friend?” I finished for him. A sharp chuckle slipped out of my beak, then I looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, I promise. And from down here, that’d be almost impossible, pal.”

Donk actually laughed. “Hoho! Hokay. Donk will tell you. Donk committed the worst crime of all. Donk... jaywalked.”

My implant, silent as a mouse until that point, decided it was the best time to kick on its mental loudspeaker inside my mind. It roared, “Told you, Flap! Told you they still jaywalked even though it means near certain death!”

Even though I knew it wouldn’t do anything, I rammed the palms of my hands over my ears and screamed, “Oh my god, Dumbass! You're insufferable!”

Donk recoiled from me. “But you said—”

“No, it’s not you, Donk. You’re good, pal. It’s this stupid clucking implant. It’s a dumbass—I mean its name is Dumbass. But its also a dumbass. It's both. Get me?”

Donk let out a huge shiver and sighed. “Donk completely understands. Donk has something similar.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, oh yes!” He almost skipped with glee. “Donk always hear the last screams of his slain ancestors as they were ripped from the hive mind!”

“Damn,” I said. “And I thought I had it—”

“Hey y’all!” came a feminine drawl from off in the distance. “What are you two still doing out here?”

I looked the slender woman up and down. She was avian, yet bipedal—like me—and she reminded me of a peacock in ways. Her fluffy feathers were a shade of blue-green so striking I felt like I was looking into the ocean. She had a delicate-looking frill perched on top of her head, and behind it I could see a train of colorful plumage following her, like she was walking on a rainbow red carpet of her own making.

She was honestly the most beautiful thing I had seen ever since my adventure began, and I was speechless. But the woman had asked me a question, and I knew enough of this place already to answer. Unfortunately, the only thing I could spit out was, “Unconscious. I was unconscious.”

“Well, I know that, sweetie!” she said. Her worlds dripped with Southern charm, like a bird version of Dolly Parton. “I saw Bawkman knock y’all out. Now, you two better hurry on and get to the range. Master Dolphino may not be as much of a rotten egg as Len Bawkman, but she still doesn’t take it kindly when you show up late. Go on, you two! Get a move on. Range is right over yonder.”