So, you’ve heard about the “ugly duckling,” right? The sad little bird who grew up getting teased by all the other animals, only to turn into a beautiful swan and make us all look like shallow jerks? Yeah, but let me tell you, things were a bit different from my point of view.

My name’s Goosey, and I’m a goose. I lived on that farm when the so-called “ugly duckling” came waddling in, looking like someone had taken a rubber chicken and left it out in the sun too long. And look, I’m not here to be mean, but let’s just say that the first time I saw him, I thought, “Is that a duckling? Or did someone spill oatmeal on the ground?”

Now, everyone calls us “bullies” for not being all warm and fuzzy toward him from the start, but give me a break! The guy was weird. He didn’t quack right. He honked like an out-of-tune trumpet. And he was HUGE. At first, we thought he was just a giant mutant duck, but none of us wanted to say anything because, you know, what if he ate us? You’ve heard of big fish in a small pond? This guy was like Goosezilla in a duck pond.

And yeah, maybe we gave him a little bit of a hard time. Okay, perhaps we called him a few names—like “Feathered Disaster” or “Quackapotamus.” But in our defense, he started it. Every morning, while the rest of us were just trying to swim around peacefully, this guy would start honking, splashing, and flapping around like he was auditioning for some sort of water ballet. I’m all for self-expression, but there are limits, okay?

So, naturally, the other ducks, geese, chickens, and even that stuck-up rooster started avoiding him. It wasn’t just that he looked like someone who hadn’t quite finished loading their duck program—he had this attitude. He would strut around, head held high, like he knew something we didn’t.

“Oh, poor me, I’m ugly,” he’d say with his droopy wings, but there was this little glint in his eye, like he was waiting for a dramatic moment. I swear, sometimes I caught him looking at his reflection in the pond, practicing his sad, soulful eyes like he was starring in some bird drama called The Pond Diaries.

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Then, one day, he disappeared. Just up and left. We all figured he finally decided to go find some ducks who were as weird as him. Good riddance, we thought. But no. He had bigger plans.

Months went by, and we kind of forgot about him, right? Things were peaceful again—no more awkward splashing or off-key honking. But then—just when we thought it was safe—guess who swans back into our lives. Literally. That’s right. Mr. Ugly Duckling comes gliding in, except now he’s got this new look. He has shiny white feathers, a long neck, and wings spread wide like he’s in a shampoo commercial. And all the animals? They were falling all over themselves like he was the hottest thing since sliced bread.

“He’s so beautiful!” “Look at those feathers!” “What grace!”

Ugh, spare me. He barely even looked like the same guy. Did he get a personal stylist while he was gone? Plastic feathers, maybe? I don’t know. All I’m saying is, if you disappear for a few months and come back looking completely different, I’m gonna have some questions.

And you know what really bugged me? He acted like he didn’t even recognize us. Just glides by, nose—I mean, beak—in the air, like, “Oh, I’m a swan now, too good for this farm.” Really? You’re too good to hang out with your old pals, the ones who kept you company through your awkward phase?

Here’s the real twist: it turns out he wasn’t even a duckling to begin with. He was a swan. Yeah, that’s right. We thought we were dealing with an ugly duck the whole time, but it was a baby swan. So now we’re the bad guys? Excuse me, but that’s not our fault! You can’t just walk into a duck pond, pretending to be a duck, and then get mad when the ducks don’t roll out the red carpet.

And let’s be honest, the rest of the swans were probably waiting for him with open wings. “Oh, look, another beautiful swan! Come join our swan yacht club, where we drink sparkling pond water and practice synchronized swimming.” Yeah, real tough life.

So, what’s the moral of the story? Sure, maybe don’t judge someone by their appearance at first, fine. But also, maybe don’t act all high and mighty just because you went through a transformation. We all have our awkward phases, buddy, but most of us don’t turn into supermodels after a few months away.

And one more thing—next time if someone waddles into your pond looking like a potato with legs, make sure it’s actually a duck before you judge. Who knows, they might surprise you when they return with a whole new look.

The end.