Basic Nature Karma

I submitted a joke, but it was rejected. As a new writer and a man who doesn't read instructions, the minimum 750 word requirement was unknown to me.

Being a long-time reader of the Loving Wives category, a satire has always had its appeal. The idea of a combination of the joke and the satire consumed my twisted mind.

The original joke is quoted. Everything else is the additional satire.

"An old pelican was flying through the skies, searching for a meal."

He needed to focus on something that would keep his mind from exploding. Several hours ago, the nest was a comforting thought as he contemplated nuzzling his mate.

He was approaching from several hundred feet away when the down feathers stood up on the back of his neck. With his superior eyesight, the shaking of her tail feathers was immediately obvious. But, getting closer, the sight was devastating. A frog was fisting her pussy with both front feet while tonguing her ass. The entire animal kingdom knew about the length of a frog's tongue, so the poor pelican was humiliated.

Pelicans, among other rare avian species, mated for life. Completely devastated, he flew away, unable to process the horrifying sight.

Was he a bad mate? What about the times he stroked her gullet, pushing large fish into her stomach? Didn't he sit on the nest when she searched for food? His thoughts turned to when they first met.

After achieving maturity, his pod was his social group. Avoiding predators and consuming enough food to survive was his purpose in life. But, as if it was a miracle, he saw her standing out among the hundreds of pelicans on the beach that day. The graceful feathers that seemed to flow down her neck made him shiver. Her exquisite wings called out to him as he felt the longing fill his soul.

By instinct alone, he walked to her, without knowing why. As he came close, he began expelling air, vibrating his red beak sack, making it flutter. She ignored him at first, but the life-mating ritual could not be denied.

After his ritual mating dance with his red beak sack engorged and waving erotically, she quietly walked to him and tucked her head under his wing as a signal that she had chosen him as her mate.

Together, they flew away from the pod to begin a life of their own. Fortune smiled upon them as they found an idyllic pond where food, freedom from predators, and a wonderful place to procreate was a heaven seemingly designed for a pelican's ideal life.

The first order of business was to create a nest. As a function of his instinct, he flew off happily in search of reeds, leaves, sticks, and anything else that would make a comfortable home for their offspring. Soon, they had built a soft and comfortable nest where they could nurture their young. It was time to begin.

In nature, unlike homo sapiens, most birds don't have a penis. Most birds have a little lump called a cloaca. During the breeding season when hormones are flowing, the cloaca swells and male birds get a cloacal protuberance. It's this little protuberance that allows the male to impregnate the female.

In season, their behavior led them to their loving and gentle couplings as an example of their mutual deep desire and their instinct for procreation.

While they were searching for food, she turned her head and he smiled, knowing what it meant. Nature filled his soul with happiness.

He sat beside her, watching the pain in her eyes as she pushed out the eggs. He watched while she deposited three eggs into the nest and laid her head on the edge of the nest to rest.

His life was unbelievable. Three lives would soon be hatched. The progeny of his loins would fulfill his entire purpose as a pelican. Their days were spent as nature intended, caring for their offspring and each other.

The first fledgling hatched was the quickest to develop, and left for the pod. He was the biggest, so he took more food from his parents by pushing his brothers aside. In the next 7-9 weeks, the remaining two fledglings grew strong. Tired of the nest, they finally flew off to join the pod.

Life was no longer about the survival of the progeny. Their only instincts were to feed themselves and, when their beak sacks, gullets, and stomachs were full, they sat together on the empty nest, cuddling and stroking each other's feathers.

His mind returned to the present. The rage continued to squeek inside him. For the first time in his life, he thought he might be capable of animal abuse. Fearing those terrible images, he decided to avoid the nest and settled in an isolated tree for the evening.

As usual, the dawn stirred him to wakefulness. At first, he was confused about his surroundings until the horrible memories flooded back into his consciousness. The memory of all the material he gathered for their nest drove him into frenzy. The horrible hen and the nest of her adultery are history.

The degenerate frog-fisted slut was nowhere to be found when he returned to the nest. Only nature knows what slimy snake, lizard, or horned toad was plundering the faithless female. His long beak attacked his source of love and comfort. Pieces of reeds, leaves, twigs, and her down feathers flew through the air in his rage. Once the nest was destroyed, he decided there was only one option. Leaving the adulteress bitch and finding a new distant pod was the only way to rebuild his life. As he flew, his mind was clear and filled with purpose. Forget the past and look to the future. Finally relaxed, he casually looked at the scenery as he felt the joy of flying.

Looking down, he saw a frog sitting on a lily pad in a pond.

By the markings on the frogs back, he knew this was the same reprehensible piece of shit that fucked his mate.

Rage filled his soul once again. Although this was instinctual hunting/feeding behavior, his heart burned with the need for revenge. There was only one answer. Payback is a bitch.

"He swooped down, captured the frog in his bill, and swallowed it whole."

He soared back into the air, the muscles in his gullet pushing the reprehensible reptile into his stomach. A smile crept over his bill, savoring this moment of satisfaction.

"Due to the pelican's advanced age, the frog passed through the pelican's digestive system unharmed."

"The pelican was flying about eight hundred feet above the ground when the frog popped halfway out of his ass."

"The frog looked down at the ground and then looked back up at the pelican and said,"

"Hey, you ain't shitting me now, are ya?"

The pelican looked back at the frog, smiled, took a deep breath, and farted. He watched the frog fall to the earth. The frog landed on a rock, his body smashed into a twisted lump, and he croaked.

The End

Author's notes for the critics:

For the grammar police ...

Have at it.

For the pelican animal husbandry critics ...

Some of the described pelican behavior is based on my research and is completely accurate. The rest is a blatant lie. Yea, I know, I took a little poetic license. But it's not the size of the pelican, it's how high it flies.

For Anonymous ...

I am disallowing anonymous comments. In fact, I hate (an unusual word for me) the anonymity of the internet in general. If you want to make a comment, join a dating site, or troll for the perfect woman (a rich beautiful blind deaf and dumb nymphomaniac who owns a bar and has good drug connections), then at least create an actual profile to hide behind, like I did.

Finally ...

a challenge for authors that include jokes after their story or have written comedy club routines into their stories:

Choose one of your jokes, a favorite or otherwise, and use it as a basis for a story. This is similar to finishing another author's story, but the joke provides the context for the story. But in this case, at least the joke choice is yours. Any takers?