i have two painted wooden ducks. together, they’re one of my favorite things. they’re shaped like humans, just with duck heads. both of them are in the same pose: standing, sort of hunched, facing forward with their hands in their pockets. they’re dressed similarly smartly. one of them, a fellow with feathers the color of a deck that’s just been stained, wears a red blazer with an aqua shirt underneath and a forest green polka-dot ascot (!), which matches his forest green pants. his friend, whose feathers are a sort of slate green, wears a pale blue jacket with a white button-up and a red tie with black stripes to go with his brown pants. both appear to have black boots on, for some reason.

one of my very closest friends gave me these ducks, so they’re important to me for that reason, but i also just enjoy looking at them. they make me happy, with the way they’re dressed, their slouchy posture. it makes me think of two shitty husbands in the fifties, making awkward conversation and hating their wives and children. i named them both Allan. i keep them together on my bookshelf, with Allan slightly turned toward Allan, while Allan stares out across the room. occasionally, i’ll take another figure that i have (an Animal Crossing amiibo or Milhouse from The Simpsons) and arrange them so that the Allans— who are quite large —are towering over the other figure expectantly, menacingly. that set-up was a little uncomfortable with this tiny Malcolm X figurine that someone gave me, tbh. i received a set of Mexican luchador figures from yet another friend, all in the same bizarre pose with one hand out to the side and the other held up as though acknowledging someone, every finger splayed out, and it amused me to arrange them in front of the Allans like a little army, the two of them thoroughly unimpressed.

american professional wrestler Owen Hart (who died almost twenty years ago when he fell from the rafters of an arena, during a live pay-per-view show, due to a stunt gone wrong), though, is almost as tall as the Allans, so he can simply be placed between them. Hart is wearing a black wrestling singlet (from his brief ‘Black Hart’ period) and it’s not possible to position him in a way that doesn’t suggest, at the very least, intensity, if not full-on aggression. his muscles are carefully articulated, and his fists are clenched tightly (though both hands do have the thumbs extended upward, apparently in a nod to his habit of pointing to himself while boasting, which is strange because that habit is connected to a previous version of the character). who will be the first to speak? what could they possibly have to talk about? Dustin Rhodes (another american wrestler), however, is also dwarfed by the Allans, and his pose, which can’t be adjusted, as he is just a piece of molded and painted plastic (making him beyond useless for a wrestling toy) could not possibly be taken as threatening: while his legs, which are bent and separated in what could be an attack stance, might potentially suggest aggression, his arms, which are held out in front of him, palms up, look, more than anything else, as though he’s expecting someone to dump a bunch of coats into them. he’s wearing a title belt, but he’s also looking up and to the right in a weird way, like he’s watching a fly buzzing around but also doesn’t want you to think he’s not paying attention when you talk. he’s so goofy looking, i can’t imagine anyone, including the grumpy, racist-ass Allans, could stay mad at him for long. he’s wearing a vest and big loud cowboy boots, to go with his wrestling tights and gold title belt.

while the Allans do have episodes where they interact with other figures, they mostly stay on a high-up shelf by themselves. sharing their space is a scented candle decorated with artwork by Jean-Michel Basquiat (Untitled (Return of the Central Figure)).