Goose ghost at the flock dock

I am a silly goose. I like saying the word "silly." Because of how silly I am, everyone calls me a silly goose, too. I am proud to be such a silly goose. My silliness reaches no bounds. So naturally, I got run over by a car while squawking at it silly in the middle of the road.

And now I am a silly goose ghost. A ghoost, if you will. And what did I decide to do in my newfound ghoostly state? Wreak havoc upon those who wronged me and my people, of course. Starting with the ducks. Tonight, they will pay for their crimes, once and for all.

The critters and beasties called it “the pond”, it was our home and our sanctuary. The centuries long harmony was shattered on the day of the 25% tariffs introduction. The ducks claimed this included 25% of scraps and crumbs that us Canadian geese toiled hard to collect.

The Canadian geese had been dominating duck society for some time now but had failed to account for one thing: a particularly nasty squabble of seagulls, fresh from the chaos of the coast and looking for new turf to call their own. The geese didn’t stand a chance.

The seagulls swooped and screeched, stealing sandwiches and scallops, and scaring the geese. The flock finally settled around the dock, securing the town square for their own. You have to use the back door to enter and leave city hall now, if you value your eyes and earlobes.