Chapter 1: A Quiet Duck and a Loud Goose
In a quiet corner of the bustling town of Bratwurstdale, where food-themed birds lived in mostly peaceful harmony, waddled the Inconspicuous chorizo duck. With his sleek brown feathers marbled like spicy sausage and his tiny hat pulled low over his eyes, he rarely made a sound. He slipped through the market unnoticed, his webbed feet barely making a splash in the puddles. He liked it that way. Quiet. Unseen. Calm.
Just two streets away, however, things were far from calm.
“GOOD MORNING, BRATWURSTDALE!” boomed a voice like a marching band on fire. It was the Conspicuous Sausage Goose. He had bright red feathers that sparkled with glittery paprika, a shiny gold whistle around his neck, and a trail of fans waving sausage flags wherever he went. He honked loudly, posed dramatically, and loved to remind everyone that he had once won the Golden Skillet for “Most Heroic Breakfast Bird.”
The Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck found this… exhausting.
He often passed the Conspicuous Sausage Goose during his early morning walks, ducking behind lettuce crates or slipping under benches to avoid being noticed.
But the Conspicuous Sausage Goose always spotted him. Always.
“Ah HA! If it isn’t my old rival, the Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck!” the goose would honk, striking a pose as cameras clicked. “Still sneaking about like a lost crumb?”
The Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck would sigh, tip his hat, and waddle away without a word.
Their rivalry went way back. No one really knew how it started—some said it began during the Great Sandwich Showdown when the two were on opposing teams. Others believed it was because the goose once spilled mustard on the duck’s best vest.
Whatever the reason, one thing was clear: Bratwurstdale was not big enough for both of them.
Still, the Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck didn’t want a fight. He wanted to read spy novels in peace and quietly perfect his secret sauce recipe. But the Conspicuous Sausage Goose wanted a duel. A contest. A headline. Something to prove, once and for all, that he was the superior sausage bird.
And so, as the sun rose over the sizzling rooftops of Bratwurstdale, the town’s greatest rivalry was about to be reheated.
The Conspicuous Sausage Goose flapped onto the town square fountain, megaphone in wing.
“This Friday! The Annual Bratwurstdale Obstacle Course Challenge! I, the magnificent, glorious, record-breaking Conspicuous sausage goose, will compete—”
A dramatic pause.
“—and I officially challenge the Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck!”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Cameras flashed. Sandwich wrappers floated to the ground in slow motion.
Back in the shadows, the Inconspicuous Chorizo Duck sighed again and adjusted his tiny hat. Trouble was bubbling like chili oil, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay under the radar much longer.
He glanced toward the square, then down at the secret blueprint poking from his satchel.
“Fine,” he whispered. “Game on.”
PusheenThinks 