My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, y'know, I-I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if... if it weren't from me, it would've just been from someone else, y'know? I guess what I'm trying to say is, life... life goes on. W-well, from—for everyone else, life goes on. Not... not for you. You're... you're dead. But that's neither here nor there.

It reminds me of one summer day in the park. I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, "Orville, I... I have a story." And he said to me, "What's the significance of the story?" And... I said to him, "Orville, not every story has to have significance, y'know? Sometimes, a... y'know, sometimes, a story's just a story. You try to read into every little thing, and find meaning in everything anyone says, you'll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once. Wasn't pretty. We talked about it for years. And then not only that, but... you'll likely end up believing something you shouldn't believe, thinking something you shouldn't think, o-o-or assuming something you shouldn't assume. Y'know? Sometimes," I said, "A story is-is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?"

Of course, it was only then I'd realized I'd made sandwiches, and... poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, y'know? Actually, I-I suppose that's the problem. They don't have hands at all, do they? They're f—they're all feet! And I-I couldn't imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet.

Now, if I recall correctly, there was a bakery nearby. I said to him, "Orville, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, I'm unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now, this was on a Tuesday, which was good, because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday... Or rather, they sold it at a discount for people wanting to feed it to the ducks, and then, prob'ly at the end of the day, finally, they threw it all out. I-I don't recall.

I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and... then go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, y'know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach, and then they all die. At, uh, at least... at least, that's what I've heard. Y'know, I-I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in the duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread!

And if you want my opinion on the matter—heh, and I told Orville this as well—if you wanna feed ducks, or birds of any kind, for that matter, it's best to buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature. They don't grow on trees o-or spring up from the bushes. I don't think birds know what to do with bread.

What was I saying? Oh oh, yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread.

What a fine day it was.