Planet of the Ducks

By Cary Jacobs (Drumhellor)
Copyright 1999

Editor's Note: Some of the people mentioned in this story bear a striking resemblance to frequent participants in Farscape SciFi BB dialogues, chatrooms, and list discussions. Of course, we at TGUT deny that any resemblance to any person, real, virtual, or imagined, is anything more than a staggering coincidence.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It is important to clarify that no poodles or ducks were harmed in the making of this screenplay, except for Lenny who got drunk and fell of a barstool. Seems he forgot he could fly, the feathered twit...

Opening scene: a backworld bar with 8 tables. Off in one corner a figure, huddled in the shadows, orders a round for the "other patrons", 6 1-1/2 foot tall figures with beady, black eyes and dark brown, hooded robes. The door opens. Enter Crichton, Aeryn, and D'Argo.

Crichton: Are you sure Zhaan got the address of the place right? This doesn't look like any "food distribution center" I've ever seen...

Aeryn: And just how many food distribution centers have you seen, Crichton? Have one on every corner back on Earth?

Crichton: Oh, yeah... McDonalds, Domino's Pizza, Taco Bell...

Aeryn: (rolls her eyes at D'Argo) Forget I asked...

D'Argo: Too late. You know, you're the one who asked us not to encourage him. (to Crichton) Rygel said this is where we're supposed to meet his contact and pick up the food.

Crichton: I know, I looked at the map with Zhaan... Something just doesn't feel right about this. (walks over to the bartender) We're looking for a guy... I mean an entity... named Hellor. Drum Hellor. We were told he'd be waiting here for us. Do you know... (stops talking as bartender turns around and exits the scene through a door behind the bar. Uneasy, D'Argo's hand goes to his Qualta Blade, while Aeryn unslings her blast rifle. Seven pairs of eyes, six a beady black and the seventh a deep hazel, turn on the three newcomers)

Crichton: Well, that was rude...

Aeryn: Right. Time to leave. Glad Rygel had the good sense not to pay up before we got the merchandise.

D'Argo: You must be joking. The king of the Worms doesn't have a trusting bone in his body.

Crichton: I didn't know he had ANY bones in his body.

(All three turn to go and find themselves surrounded by the robed creatures. D'Argo draws his sword)

Dark Shape: I believe I'm the one you wish to speak to, though, I'm afraid I have something else in mind. Lads...

(the robes drop off and Crichton stifles a laugh as he is confronted by a half dozen ducks with small rifles)

D'Argo: (Horrified) Great Konna...

Aeryn: (Equally horrified, clutching her blast rifle) Mallardoids!!!

(Crichton, staring at the two, shakes his head. Then he reaches down to pat one of the ducks on the head)

Crichton: What's the big deal? They're just a bunch of cute little-

(pulls his hand back as the creature's maw, filled with sharp, pointed teeth, snaps at it.)

Crichton: Sweet mother of crap!!!

Duck1: Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack, quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack! *translation: Put that thing in front of my face again, and I'll bite it off at the wrist*

Dark Shape: I'd advise against trying anything... I'm sure the Peacekeeper wench and the Luxan will tell you your best bet is to surrender. Immediately.

Aeryn: One flock of Mallardoids completely devastated an entire battalion of Peacekeeper Commandos... Then they ate the survivors.

D'Argo: I'll NEVER surrender to these creatures... I'd rather die in battle!!! (leaps at the nearest Mallardoid and is cut down as 3 darts hit him in the chest. Aeryn, screaming a battle cry, turns her blast rifle on the closest creature and fires, turning it into a crispy critter)

Duck 3: Quack quack QUACK! Quack quack quack! *trans: Oh my GOD! She killed Kenny!*

Duck 5: Quack quack!!! *trans: You bastards!!!*

(darts pincushion Aeryn and Crichton)

Dark shape: (leaning forward: he looks sebacean) Round them up, and let's get them back to the Duckcave, Lads... Good work! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Duck 4: Quack, quack. Quack quack quack... *trans: Oh, great. He's obsessing again...*

Duck 2: Quack quack quack, Quack... Quack quack quack quack. *trans: Go with it, Dude... He buys us beer.*

Fade to black. Commercial for Blair Witch Project. Old Navy Cargo Pants commercial. Sci-Fi chick telling us not to go anywhere, or we'll be hunted down like dogs and neutered/spayed. Commercial for other Loser shows on different channels. Sci-fi chick telling us Farscape is back, so sit down and shut the hell up.

Scene two

Opens on Moya's bridge. In attendance, Zhaan and Rygel. A hologram of Pilot comes up.

Pilot: Your eminence, there is an incoming message from the planet surface, undoubtedly from your contact.

Rygel: Well, who else would it be? It's not as if those uncultured lackwits have the good grace to keep us informed of their progress... Probably already have the food and are trying to think of a way to cut me out of my fair share.

Zhaan: Your fair share being which half, Rygel? Pilot, IS there any word from the others?

Pilot: No, Zhaan. But the incoming transmission, while from His Eminence's contact, is requesting to talk to you...

Zhaan: (surprised) To me?

Pilot: Not specifically. He asks for the "blue bald chick with the cute smile." Moya wishes to know what a "chick" is...?

Rygel: I knew it! You're all out to get me! Well, I'm not giving up my half of the food, no matter what the conditions of the agreement. I demand an arbitrator, immediately! Drum Hellor has gone TOO FAR!

Zhaan: Calm down, Rygel. Pilot, perhaps you should put him through.

(Both turn to a different screen. An image of the three missing crewmates comes up. They are unconsious and strapped to tables. Mallardoids scurry around them, placing instruments of torture near them.)

Rygel: I demand to know the meaning of this! Those three drones are supposed to be delivering my food! They can nap on their own time...

Zhaan: Rygel, be silent. (to screen) I too wish to know the meaning of this. Why have you captured our companions? They have caused you no harm... We demand you release them at once.

Drum Hellor: (voice off of camera) YOUR DEMANDS MEAN NOTHING TO ME!!! (camera pans to a bearded sebacean with a beer belly and glasses) Pau Zotah Zhaan, you will turn yourself over to my minions within 2 arns, or I shall torture these three and feed them slowly to The Lads.

Rygel: Seems fair to me...

Zhaan: (backhands Rygel in a move she learned from D'Argo, then turns back to the transmission) And what do you want with me?

Drum Hellor: (shrugs) I'm a guy, you're a hottie. You do the math... (turns to the Mallardoids and nods. Turns back to the screen) And to show that I'm serious...

(one of the Mallardoids, dressed in a black leather jumpsuit and sporting two tiny rifles, slaps D'Argo until he awakens)

ChickWithGuns: Quack, quack, quack quack quack quack, quack quack's quack... *trans: Sorry, cutie, but after all, a being's gotta eat...*

(ChickWithGuns starts tying D'Argo's fleshtails into balloon animals. D'Argo writhes and bucks, but stays silent.)

Rygel: Ask it if it can do a bunny...

Pilot: What is a bunny, Your Eminence?

Rygel: Who the Hezmona cares? I heard Crichton mention it, and it sounded delicious...

Zhaan: Will you BE QUIET, Rygel... (to Drum Hellor) Very well, you've convinced me. Where do I meet these "minions" of yours?

Drum Hellor: I've already sent the coordinates. And bring the slug... I don't want him sneaking up on us and videotaping the honeymoon.

Rygel: I am NOT a slug. (smiling at Zhaan) And I wouldn't miss this for the universe...

(Cut to planet surface in the torture chamber of the Duckcave)

D'Argo: She'll never consent to this. She WILL find a way to defeat you.

Drum Hellor: Brave words. I've heard them before...

D'Argo: You've done this to other travellers?

Drum Hellor: No. But I watch a lot of television... (To the Mallardoids) Ploppy! BT! Front and center! (waits as 2 of the little critters, one wearing a mini-qualta blade and the other wearing a black tee shirt, race up and crack off a salute) You are to handle the other's punishment for defying me. Until I tell you differently, I want them alive...

BT: Quack quack quack quack! *trans: I call the Babe!*

Ploppy: Quack. Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack. *trans: Okay. I'll take the fruit loop who wanted to pet you earlier...

(Drum Hellor watches as BT drags off the unconsious Aeryn by her bootstraps and Ploppy awakens Crichton. Laughs as Ploppy puts headphones on Crichton and plays the song "Quackacabana", by Ducky Manilow, over and over again)

Drum Hellor: And they have the NERVE to call ME a villian...

Ploppy and Chickwithguns: Quack quack quack quack quack quack, quack. *trans: You taught us everything we know, boss.*

(Drum Hellor leaves as Crichton begins screaming in revulsion)

Drum Hellor: Hmmm... Not even past the second verse, yet... Lord, but they make me proud...

Fade out. Maxi-pad commercial, followed by tampon commercial, followed by hemerroid commercial. Sci-Fi chick pounding a shot of tequila and telling everyone to kiss her rosy white butt, and, oh, we'll be right back. Couple o' Taco Bell commercials, where someone FINALLY stomps on that damned dog. Sci-Fi chick welcomes us back to "Fartscoop," then blows chunks off-screen.

Scene 3

(Scene opens in front of a small, square, stone structure. Enter Zhaan and Rygel. From out of the building, three Mallardoids and Drum Hellor emerge)

Drum Hellor: So nice of you to make it, My Dear... And you brought the slug.

Rygel: I AM NOT A SLUG!!! And I brought a vid-recorder for the ceremony...

Zhaan: What ceremony would that be Dominar?

Drum Hellor: I'll field that one, Slug-Dude...

Rygel: For the last time, I AM NOT A SLUG!

Drum Hellor: Whatever. Look, Cerulean Girl, it's like this... The Waterfowl Nations are at war. Only a strong leader can bring peace to the land, one who has wooed and won the heart of a Delvian Priestess.

Zhaan: And why is that?

Drum Hellor: Do I look like a waterfowl to you? I'm just lucky the other avians didn't find out you were cruising this part of the Uncharted Territories before I did.

Zhaan: So, you wish to wed me to bring peace to this backspace little planet and it's carnivorous bird population, is that it?

Drum Hellor: Oh, Lord no... I need to wed you to impress the Mallardoids. And they bet me 50 credits I couldn't talk you into it.

Rygel: Seems like a winning bet for them...

Drum Hellor: Bite me, amphibian... Anywho, once I win their respect (and their credits) I'll use them as my concuering army. Then we can see about the Honeymoon, Gorgeous...

Rygel: Does this story end with me getting my food. (at a dark look from Zhaan) Er, I mean, us getting OUR food, and our crewmembers back?

Zhaan: I will not be a pawn in a power struggle. Certainly not unless you shave that dead yafta off of your face...

Drum Hellor: You don't have much of a choice, Sweetie. (the ducks advance with dart rifles raised and one reaches up to put Zhaan in handcuffs) And it's a beard, Damn it... Geez, what IS it with you people and facial hair...?

(using super-fast reflexes, Zhaan snatches up two of the Mallardoids and reduces them to quivering mounds of feathers with well-executed neck pinches... But the third one shoots her with a tranq dart)

Duck 5: Quack? Quack quack quack quack quack quack, Quack? *trans: Well? You gonna give us any trouble, Tubby?*

Rygel: Ahem... Will there be a reception after the wedding?

Duck 5: Quack. *trans: Yup.*

Rygel: I'll come along quietly...

Cut to the Duckcave: Crichton and D'Argo, still tied to their tables, are mostly forgotten, while a crowd of mallardoids sit around a platform. On the platform is Aeryn, a piece of fruit shoved in her mouth. All the mallardoids have napkins pinned to their feathers.

Mallardoids: Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! *trans: Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! Lunch!Lunch!*

Crichton: D'Argo, we have to face facts... Zhaan may not be able to help us...

D'Argo: In which case, Rygel's our only hope.

Crichton: Well, maybe I can get to my wrist and chew a vein open... It'll be quicker. By the way, your flesh tails... Is that a bunny?

D'Argo: Shut up, Crichton... We have to think of a way out of these restraints. What the Dren is a "bunny"?

ChickWithGuns: Quack, quack quack quack quack quack, quack quack... *trans: Well, I could let you loose, I suppose...*

D'Argo: (scornfully) And why would you betray your master, Drum Hellor?

ChickWithGuns: Quack, quack quack quack quack. Quack quack quack quack quack, quack quack quack quack quack quack... Quack quack quack quack quack...Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack. Quack quack QUACK quack quack quack... Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack, Quack! note to self... Next time I do fanfic, no talking ducks!!! *Trans: Oh, he's not our master. He just buys us beer, so we let him hang around... He's more like a pet... And he'll make a good figurehead when we take over the galaxy... (leans in conspiratorily) No one EVER suspects the mallardoids... But it will cost you something special, Luxan!*

(whispers something into his ear)

D'Argo: Ugh!!! With a mallardoid? I'd rather do that with Crichton.

Crichton: D'ARGO!!!

D'Argo: All right, all right... But you have to get our Peacekeeper out, too. And no pictures...

(ChickWithGuns releases D'Argo and they go sneak off camera, with Crichton snickering like a madman)

(Cut to Aeryn's table dance. Er, table.)

Ploppy: Quack, quack Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack... *trans: Hey, with Kenny dead that means the leadership of the mallardoids goes to me...*

BT: Quack quack quack... Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack "Quack quack Quack"! *Trans: No it doesn't... I'm the next in line for the prestigious "Feather of Honor"!*

Ploppy: Quack, quack quack quack quack quack quack quack... *trans: Well, guess we'll have to Roshambu for it...*

(kicks BT as hard as he can between the legs. BT drops like a stone.)

Ploppy: Quack! Quack quack quack quack quack quack. Quack quack quack quack! *trans: Hallelujah! a new leader has been chosen. All hail King Ploppy!*

Mallardoids: Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! *trans: Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! Lunch! *

Aeryn: (spits out fruit) Kill me if you want, you little feathered snerls, but if you eat me I'll do EVERYTHING in my power to give you indigestion! At least cut me loose and let me die like a warrior!

BT: (high pitched voice) Quack?!?! *trans: Snerls?!?!

Ploppy: Quack quack quack quack... quack. *trans: Now I just feel... insulted.*

BT: Quack quack quack quack quack Quack Quack... Quack quack quack QUACK!!! *trans: To the Great Pond with Drum Hellor... Let's eat her NOW!!!

Ploppy: Quack quack quack quack quack... *trans: And start at the feet...*

(The mallardoids start advancing on the struggling Aeryn. One produces a bottle of tabasco sauce. Enter ChickWithGuns, Crichton, and a very embarrassed D'Argo )

ChickWithGuns: Quack quack!!! Quack quack quack! *trans: Stop this!!! I command it!*

(The rest of the flock stop, look at her, start laughing, and continue towards Aeryn)

Crichton: Oh, sure... WASTE your time on one lone Sebacean...

BT: Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack, quack quack. *trans: We'll get to you in a minute, Froot Loop.*

D'Argo: ...when you can have a whole roomful of wedding guests.

(the Mallardoids stop and look at each other. Then D'Argo and Crichton are forced to duck {pun intended; Neener Neener} as the whole flock tear straight past them and out of the cave)

Aeryn: How the Hezmona did you two get loose?

Crichton: Well, D'Argo-

D'Argo: Say another word, human, and I will rip out your tongue with my bare hands.

ChickWithGuns: Quack, quack quack. Quack quack quack quack quack quack. *trans: Yeah, Froot Loop. A Luxan never kisses and tells.

(Aeryn chokes down laughter as they cut her loose, and they exit the cave)

Boom operator poking SciFi chick with a stick. "I don't think she's dead... Just passed out. Should I still check her for loose change?" MORE Old Navy comercials, MORE maxipad commercials, and at least two spots on toenail fungus. Yuck. SciFi chick, welcoming us back to Farscape, as she signs herself up for Alchoholics Anonymous.

(Cut to wedding scene: In attendance are BabyCeal, Dave "The Wall", Kara-the-ninja-duck-hater-S, KittyCat, Quite_an_Eyeful, AyeAyeOnStorm, and the rest of the "pie throwing crowd". Zhaan is manacled and gagged at the altar, standing next to a VERY happy Drum Hellor. Rygel is video taping the ceremony from his hover chair. The wedding is being officiated by JaneyGal)

JaneyGal: We have come together to wed these two fine beings. Well, this idiot and this fine Delvian being.

Drum Hellor: (muttering) I knew I should have had Catholic wedding.

Janeygal: You're not Catholic. Now pay attention. *ahem* It is with great awe, and, let's face it, confusion, that we must now concede Drum has found a mate. (looks at Zhaan) Albeit, not a willing one... Everyone who bet against him, PAY UP!!!

(Drum Hellor glares as two of Jane's Poodlites, vaguely shaped like dogs, catch the money thrown by the wedding guests.)

Drum Hellor: OW!!!! Who threw the roll of quarters? AyeAye, no more booze for you 'til the reception!!

JaneyGal: Enough!!! If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be married, or you just want to screw with Drum's life, speak now or shut the Hezmona up.

(every hand in the place goes up)

Drum Hellor: I should now take the time to mention I have a gun and all your home addresses...

(every hand in the place goes down)

JaneyGal: I now pronounce you---

Drum Hellor: Wait, aren't you supposed to ask us if we do or something?

JaneyGal: Well, I don't want to break your heart, Kiddo, but it's pretty obvious she doesn't...

Drum Hellor: Humor me. I'll do her part... I mean, come on! This is more than likely the only wedding I'll ever have...

(glares as the ENTIRE congregation, including Rygel, agrees with him)

JaneyGal: *sigh* All right. Do you, Drum Hellor, take this Delvian Vixen-babe to be your lawfully wedded wife?

Drum Hellor: I do!

JaneyGal: Big surprise, there. (turns to Zhaan) Do you, Pa'u Zhotah Zhaan, take this twit to be your lawfully wedded---

(the doors slam open as, hearing the agreed-upon signal, wave after wave of Mallardoids bursts into the room, attacking everything in sight. JaneyGal's Poodlites go down fighting, and most of the wedding guests, disarmed at the door, surrender. Strolling in at the back of the Mallardoids is the rest of Moya's crew. D'Argo is holding his "new friend's" hand. Er, wing)

Crichton: Release Zhaan now, you twisted goon! We're blowing this dump!

Mallardoids: (in unison) QUACK?!?! *trans: DUMP?!?!*

Drum Hellor: Now, now... Let's all calm down. (takes off Zhaan's gag) You can, of course, leave in peace. We'll even sell you the food you wanted. I've just taken over the majority of the planet; I can afford to be magnam...Magnim... Mag...

ChickWithGuns: Quack? *trans: Magnaminous?*

Drum Hellor: Thank you.

Zhaan: I do.

Aeryn: You do what, Zhaan?

Zhaan: I take this man to be my lawfully wedded husband.

(loud clunk as every lower jaw and bill in the room hits the floor)

D'Argo: Zhaan, you can't be serious! This being is some sort of brain deficient. You can't possibly...

Zhaan: Please, my friends... I'm 812 cycles old. Allow me this chance to wed before I become a spinster... It's my decision, after all. Be happy for me. D'Argo, why are you holding that mallardoid's wing?

(D'Argo blushes)

Crichton: We'll tell you later.

D'Argo: No, you will NOT!!!

Aeryn: Zhaan, you can do better. And saner...

(Drum Hellor glares as everyone in the room, including his minions, agrees with Aeryn)

Drum Hellor: 'Scuse me... In the room... (waves his hands) Right over here... Can hear everything... (turns to Zhaan) You really don't have to do this, Dear. I was just using the wedding to lure my enemies to their doom... You really are free to go...

Zhaan: I'm afraid it's out of your hands. You already said "I do", remember? And so have I.

(Drum Hellor turns to JaneyGal)

Drum hellor: Quick, say "Man and Wife" before she changes her mind!

JaneyGal: NEVER!!!

(JaneyGal uses a neck pinch on the nearest Mallardoid and makes a run for the door. She is tackled by Ploppy, BT, and Rygel)

Zhaan: Rygel?

Rygel: (picking himself off the subdued JaneyGal) No wedding, no wedding reception. I'm famished. Let's get on with this...

Drum Hellor: Boys, you know what to do.

(BT pulls a feather from Ploppy's coat, and starts tickling JaneyGal)


Drum hellor: Nah. (turns back to Zhaan as soon as JaneyGal wets herself) So, what would you like for a wedding gift?

Zhaan: For starters, you could get me out of these restraints. Oh, and save them for the Honeymoon...

Crichton: I don't get it... If this was all a set-up, why didn't you just use Aeryn as your wife-to-be?

Aeryn: CRICHTON!!!!

Drum Hellor: (starts taking the restraints off Zhaan) Pretend to marry a Sebacean? Ew, that's disgusting... I'd rather marry one of the mallardoids...

(chuckles as every mallardoid in the room sticks its tongue out at him and gives him the bum's rush)

Zhaan: But aren't you a Sebacean?

Drum Hellor: Heck no... I'm Human. I was kidnapped by the lads 4 years ago...

Crichton: (excitedly) Then you can get me back home to earth?

Drum Hellor: Nope, sorry... Kenny was the only one who knew the way, and the PK chick incinerated him...

Crichton: Thanks, Aeryn...

Aeryn: Well, if you'd let me shoot things more often this wouldn't happen.

Zhaan: Why don't you head back to the ship, and I'll join you soon... Drum Hellor and I have a honeymoon to tend to...

D'Argo: I'm piloting the shuttle.

Aeryn: I call co-pilot. So, D'Argo, how was she?

(D'Argo snarls)

Crichton: You got to co-pilot on the way down. And I need the practice.

(Start to fade out)

Aeryn: I guess we'll have to Roshambu for it...

(fade out with a loud "thwup" and a painful groan from Crichton)

SciFi chick tells us Farscape will return, and apologizes for her behavior (Seems she's having a "monthly visitor", whatever the Hell THAT means...). Advertisement for The Saturday SciFi Movie, which, lets face it, we'll all be too drunk to watch. ANOTHER DAMNED TAMPON COMMERCIAL!!! ENOUGH, ALREADY!!! I'M A GUY, I DON'T USE 'EM!!! Taco Bell commercial where the crushed dog comes back to life as a zombie and gnaws Ronald McDonald to death, then takes a whiz on his corpse (crap; we're never gonna get rid of that mutt). A bruised and bloodied Rockne O'Bannon tells us the SciFi chick has been sacked, and has gone on a three state killing spree, while welcoming us back to the conclusion of Farscape.

(Cut to Zhaan's quarters, where she is unpacking some things she bought on the planet surface. In attendance, Crichton, who limps noticably)

Crichton: Thanks for taking away the pain, Zhaan... I don't know what the heck is wrong with Aeryn; she wants to "Roshambu" for everything these days... How was the honeymoon?

Zhaan: Positively fascinating... We saw to most of the rounding up of his enemies and traveled the planet. He mentioned outlawing someone called "France", but I got the impression this person was on your homeworld... We are welcome to visit anytime we desire. He's really quite sweet, once you get past his insanity.

(unseen by either, a small shape sneaks out of Zhaan's luggage and hides in the ventilation shaft)

Crichton: If you don't mind my asking, how was he in the sack?

Zhaan: Sack? How did you find out about... Oh, you mean sex... Well, John, the first time I'm afraid was a bit hard on him. But he got the hang of it after the third or fourth encounter. Although I couldn't get him to wipe that dazed smile off his face... Is that typical of your race?

Crichton: Probably. So, when do you think we'll be back to see them? I know he'll be anxious to see you...

Zhaan: I'm not sure... John, does your race have telepathic powers?

Crichton: Not that I know of. Why?

Zhaan: Well, he said he was going to "keep an eye on me", and when I asked him to explain, he refuses. I thought he somehow had forged a psychic link with me or something, but I didn't want to push the issue...

Crichton: Probably nothing to worry about, Zhaan. He was crazy, you know...

Zhaan: Aren't we all...

(Zhaan and Crichton exit her quarters. Pan to the ventilation shaft, where the rumble of Moya's engines cuts out the sound of the video camera being run by the trio of Mallardoids)

Fade out. The end. Okay? Lemme alone, you yutzes... Geez, do I read over YOUR shoulders? Go watch a movie or read a book or something. Yeah, YOU!!! What, you want a show tune or something?!?!? You've got nothing better to do than.... (yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah, bippity boppity boo)