Reassembling a Dead Duck

When the roasted duck appeared on the platter at Carol's wedding party, she burst in to tears. Those of the guests who were sober enough to notice her crying were quite perplexed. "What's wrong?" asked Carol's mother.

Carol, however, was too upset to speak. She gingerly picked up the duck meat and cradled it in her arms. "Look what they've done to you!" she said through tears.

"But you love duck meat!" said her mother, "You've eaten it since childhood!"

"THIS TIME IT'S DIFFERENT!" screamed Carol. She ran from the room.

She made a vow to the roasted duck.

"You may have had your feathers plucked," she said, "You may have been skinned and had your legs and head removed, but I will undo all that. I will rebuild you, and then I'll keep you as a pet. You sweet little duck! I love you! And I will fix you. Trust me."

She set out on a quest to find the missing peices of the duck.

First, she went to the butcher shop where the duck was slaughtered. A man there told her that he sent the duck's feathers to a pillow company, and threw the duck's head, skin and legs in a dumpster.

Carol first retreived a pillow, shredded it, and glued the feathers meticulously to the cooked duck meat. "There you go, sweety, now you're all soft!" she said lovingly, as she stroked the sticky feathers that smelled of barbacue sauce.

Then, she voyaged to a dump to find the duck's head and feet. She's still there, digging through the garbage as far as I know. Dragging the dead duck behind her. Doing anything to rebuild it.