We are the four teenage cygnets of Prospect Park Lake. There are four of us, really, but one is usually off someplace acting moody.
Mom still thinks she can tell us what to do.
Like groom our wingpits. Boring.
Mom says, "Take the bread, but take it like a real bad-ass." Sometimes we wish we could just be ducks.
My stupid little wings totally suck. My stupid gray feathers are disgusting. I hate my peeping little stupid voice. Hey, check out this thing I can do.
I like to sleep the whole day almost. Mom cannot wake me up without, like, biting me and stuff.
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