I have had this nagging fear since I was a small child. The fear that my rubber ducky, which I destroyed in a rant after being told that I wasn’t a nuclear submarine, would resurrect from the dead and come back to kill me. Now naturally I assumed that it would return in a size comparable to Godzilla and so it has come to pass.

Thankfully my rubber ducky has absolutely no sense of direction and is, as far as I can tell, lost somewhere just east of Cairo, Egypt. That is somewhat unfortunate because my rubber ducky will probably just wait for me there. He knows that I have wanted to go to Egypt since I was a small nuclear submarine.

Oh, well. I guess I will just have to go to Japan instead. That is unless my toy nuclear submarine comes back in the shape of a gigantic dinosaur like creature that breaths electric fire. Then I will simply have to stay in my house for the rest of my life and dream of Egypt and Japan.