"Quack," he whispered to the empty room.
A plaintiff sues. The case is dismissed. He tries to sue again.
He tried again. Nothing. He ran a WhoIs search. The domain didn't exist. It was as if it had never been registered.
Passed. Passed. Passed.
Marty, Sarah, and the others met at a bar. Phones buzzed.
"He's very judgmental," Marty agreed.
"Just try it."
The night before the exam, the site went down for maintenance. A collective panic rippled through the secret group chat Marty had started. The screen just showed the sleeping duck.
Marty went home that night, slightly drunk and incredibly happy. He sat at his desk. The plastic dinosaur was still there, but it looked less judgmental now.
He expected a wall of text. Instead, the screen shifted. The pixel-duck waddled onto the screen. A speech bubble popped up. quackprep.0rg
The duck showed a picture of a gift box exploding.
Marty sat in the silence of his apartment. Had he hallucinated it? Had the stress cracked his brain and conjured a pixelated waterfowl to teach him the law?
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