#*I had to crack the mask just a bit don't worry about BG they'll be fine*

[after-out-of-place]

Epilogue - They Don’t Know (Pt.3)

Rubber ducks were an odd phenomenon in this world. Sure, children loved to pretend to see them all the time and people kept them as lawn ornaments: sitting near ponds; wearing hats; guarding vegetable patches and the like, but they were largely considered mythological and at best 'plausible'. The most commonly believed folklore placed the "Duck" as a mythological creature responsible for clean sanitation, the growth of crops and their laughter was said capable of creating earthquakes - but nobody had ever actually seen one alive, and considering illustrations of them closely resemble geese, the "Duck" had largely been considered pure fiction.

But here Bubble-Glub and Horace stood, both of them leaning forward against a hip-high wooden fence, overlooking an artificial pond while in conversation with a placid; purple; rubber duck by the name of Marcie. Marcie had climbed up on the side of the pond, her little webbed feet making careful 'plap, plap, plap' noises as she paraded herself around for Horace. "I have feet!", Marcie quacked, squeaking happily, "Two! They help me walk and swim." "I know how to swim," said Horace, "but I use my arms too." "But you have feet as well? Why only use your arms?" "Uh, I mean I don't just use my arms, you use your whole body." Horace tried to explain in further detail, but quickly found himself explaining the concept of swimming as humanoid.. to a duck. Despite his surprisingly impressive knowledge on the sport, Marcie could only look at him quizzically through the whole ordeal. She then shifted the topic back to herself for a while, explaining her vast knowledge on ducks - or rather one duck in particular: Marcie. "And I have wings!", Marcie concluded. She then demonstrated her use of them briefly before exiting the little pond area, quacking a tiny goodbye and leaving Horace with a rather good feeling of what a real duck looks like.

"So, uh, has purple become like, your whole thing? Because I might have to change the posters..", Horace asked not long after Marcie left. He'd noticed DD dressed in royal purple today and Bubble-Glub would usually wear similar colors to complement their green appearance - and Marcie happened to be purple as well. Bubble-Glub reassured him that, no, purple wasn't 'their whole thing' and it happened to be rather circumstantial. Horace turned around, leaning back against the fence instead. "So, like, how hard is it to run your own business?" "I'm a ex-bartender and currently musician, bub. You've more experience being your own boss." "As a swimming instructor? Or? I mean, I guess coffee is a liquid too, just like water?" "Only if you brew it wrong." replied Bubble-Glub, nodding. Horace took a moment to determine it was meant humorously, but then laughed wholeheartedly. "Okay, but if purple isn't your thing, what's with the style? Like, you both look good in whatever you're wearing right now, but I don't think ducks would like suits?" "Oh." Bubble-Glub fell silent for a moment, thinking. "DD wanted to be extra presentable today." "Yeah, but how about you?" "Gotta match Dee, don't I?" "But you're always dressed like that, though, so isn't she matching you instead?"

Horace, for as simple as he seemed sometimes, hit right on target. Bubble-Glub generally liked to dress snappy, even when just being at home. Today was a day for dress pants and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled most of the way up, the top few buttons left undone so their skin could breathe better. They preferred wearing suits - not out of wanting to be formal, but because they made them look capable; respectable. Therein lied the rub, or at least in Bubble-Glub's perception. It took a while before they answered, mulling over what words to use before ultimately deciding that Horace wouldn't care about the how - only the what of was being said. "Horace, be real with me. How do I look to you?" "Uh, nice?" Horace looked over Bubble-Glub, caught off-guard by the sudden question. "… Can you see it?" Bubble-Glub followed up, stepping away from the fence and trying to pose casually. They failed to do so, looking awkward with a bothered expression. Horace looked closely, noticing their translucent green skin catching the sunlight rather well - and the faint outlines of a humanoid skeleton beneath the skin of their face, torso and arms. "Yeah, I guess? The skeleton? I mean, if I look real hard. It's kind of cool, like one of those, uh, hidden picture pictures." "Thanks Horace." Bubble-Glub let out a sigh, dropping the tension from their posture. "Wish everyone thought like you."

The two stood in relative silence for a while, before Horace leaned away from the fence and focused on Bubble-Glub again. Horace figured that essentially every slime-person would be at least a little see-through, though it'd be rude to stare. To him, everyone had their differences worth celebrating - but Bubble-Glub seemed self-conscious about theirs. "Wait, Bro-Glub, are you bothered by it?" "Nah. You can say Bro-Glub." "No, I mean, the skeleton thing." "Oh, I ain't bothered by that. Some folks are, and they ain't nice about it. That bothers me." "Man, Bro-Glub," Horace shook his head, "People can be seriously uncool about things you can't control, dude. But that makes them uncool. Not you." "You really think it's cool? D'ya think D-" "Yeah dude. It's cool, Like … like iced coffee." "You're really into the whole coffee thing now, huh?" "Always have been, man. And like, Wallace LOVES it, so."

There was some more talk about coffee, some more talk about ducks and how appreciated Horace felt now that he found his place in After Out Of Place: he'd doubted himself very hard, but all the band's members made him feel celebrated - and celebrating differences is rad as hell, Horace insisted. Having had such good conversation while soaking up some later-afternoon sun (as well as having a good idea of what ducks now look like), Horace asked to go collect his papers to show both owners of the Duck Sanctuary his designs for promotional material - because now that ducks exist, they need all the help they can get. "And hey … Bubble-Glub?" "Yeah?" "Hey, so, do you think it's true? That ducks cause earthquakes when they laugh?" "Hmmmm, nah. Marcie laughs and we're still safe. She says her quacks don't echo, though." "Dude. That's wack." "Yeah."