"No, that's not how it went, dumbass," Ducky told the narrator, quickly shattering the fourth wall. "Midi-chlorians are bullshit and Noone pays any attention to them. Also, my lightsaber was fucking blue. Try again."

---
(Continued from Ducky's Wild West Adventure - Part 3)

The bird-fish caught the yellow blade on his own *blue* one, and turned with the attack, setting Ross off-balance in a critical moment. This was no time to lay down on the job, however, and instead of comically rolling on his belly Ross used the Ziggity maneuver and landed neatly on his feet over there. Duckfriend used Flurry of Blows and attacked three times in one turn, slashing vociferously at the sphere-shaped man's exposed back. But Ross had been prepared, and expertly did that thing where they parry behind their heads without looking. The lightsabers made a soothing KSSHHH! KSHHHSHHH! KHSHSHSHH! noise that was actually not soothing.

"You're as skilled as you are fat, I'll give you that much," Ducky pretended.

Ross had turned around by now, the two blades perpen-dick-ular to eachother. Ross tipped his hat, and his lip muscles struggled mightily against his face fat to form a menacing grin, "Thank ya' kindly."

"Just kidding, your form is sloppier than your wife's when she was sucking my dick. Your dead wife," Ducky reminded.

With some effort, Ross's smile soon became an angry-face, and he charged at El Pato Azul with the fury of the ancients. His yellow energy blade swiped down across the little guy's feet but Ducky was way ahead of him. He jumped into the air like Nayruto and launched an 8-foot cone of telekinesis right at the Big Man in the Room. This knocked off Ross's good-guy hat, amazingly revealing more fat at the top of his head. The bulbous cowboy also stumbled backwards and was considered Dazed for the duration of his turn.

But that didn't stop him from unleashing his deepest metaphor yet: "Boy, you may have a foot in the waterin' hole, but you ain't about to wrangle any slithers. They've got a mouth that opens wider than you prepared for."

That one didn't sit well with the platypus, "SNAKES? DID YOU MEAN TO SAY, 'SNAKES,' YOU BABBLING RETARD?"

Ropin' Ross had, indeed.

(Fun fact: Noone's preferences are often controversial, and very few people agree with him when it comes right down to it. Noone also likes foot cramps, for example. That's two fun facts, now get out of here.)