Fred the Duck is a bit of an odd duck. That endears him to many, and compels them to overlook his inefficiencies. Fred has built a nice life for himself by succeeding in an unusually high number of low-risk situations while spinning soliloquies on completely random topics.
Unfortunately, his success rate in those scenarios has fallen as of late, as exemplified by a recent weekend getaway to his favorite low-risk vacation spot: The airport Holiday Inn Express.
Check-In at the Express is adjacent to the self-service breakfast bar. Upon arriving, Fred glanced longingly over at the waffle iron. He told himself tomorrow would be the day he would branch out from his normal routine of tap water over cold cereal. He would make a hot breakfast. After all, people accomplish the task every day, so the task was certainly going to be a walk in the park.
Knifing through the crowd of weary business travelers early the next morning, Fred found himself at the waffle iron. He watched a child successfully create his own, and that gave him the confidence that this would be another one of his easy wins.
Then a drawer full of foil-wrapped items caught Fred's eye. They were biscuits. All that was required was a quick 30 seconds in the microwave and he would have his hot breakfast with even lower output. This was literally the least amount of effort possible to get his end goal.
How could he possibly pass that up?
It happened in a flash. Fred didn't realize he needed to take the foil off of the biscuits. Sparks began almost immediately.
Screams of "Fire, Fred the Duck! Fire, Fred the Duck!" rang out as the microwave burst into flames. Hotel guests fled for safety, but Fred sat and stared at the growing blaze.
Billowing smoke filled the lobby, but Fred was undaunted. There was still time to save his beloved Express. He reached for the fire extinguisher, and pointed it at the flames in expectation. Nothing happened. Fred was perplexed, he had seen this done in movies many times.
Undaunted by the setback, an epiphany hit Fred: He would throw the extinguisher at the fire, and once it was melted the prized liquid would come pouring out.
Liquid did not come pouring out. Instead, the extinguisher exploded, further expanding the damage. Sirens blared as authorities arrived on the scene. But Fred's efforts in trying to put out the flames had made the situation worse.
Limping out to the front door, he pointed the fireman in the direction of the blaze.
Shouts of "Fire, Fred the Duck!" started up again. Onlookers pointed to his burning tail. Fred quickly dove to the ground while emergency personnel surrounded him in a blanket.
He survived the incident with only minor burns. Those that know him were perhaps a little less enamored after hearing of the details, but overall his life was going to continue on being alright.
If Fred did this poorly in something as simple and low-risk as cooking himself breakfast in the microwave, what's going to happen when he takes on something a little more challenging, like his planned trip to the dentist next week?
That's a good question. All you really need to know is to be prepared, and seek refuge at your nearest Soviet-era bomb shelter.