Marla’s phone buzzed like a wasp in a blender. She’d just joined the #DuckWalkChallenge, a TikTok trend where users mimicked a duck’s waddle while lip-syncing to “Blinding Lights.” Marla, 17, had never seen the video, but her best friend, Tasha, had already posted a clip of herself doing the move in a tutu. Marla’s version? A full-body mime routine, complete with a rubber chicken she’d found in her dad’s garage.
“This is gonna be legendary,” Marla whispered, adjusting her duck hat (a paper plate with googly eyes). She queued the song, bent her knees, and began waddling. The rubber chicken flopped in her hand like a dying fish. The camera rolled.
Cut to Marla mid-stride, duck hat askew, when her sneaker slipped on a puddle of expired sunscreen. She executed a flawless face-plant into the backyard sandbox, chicken flying solo. The video caption read: “When you try to trend but the universe has other plans.”
Tasha’s comment appeared instantly: “BRB crying laughing.” Marla’s followers spiked to 10k. The #DuckWalkChallenge exploded. Strangers sent her DMs: “Send help. My dog is doing the duck walk now.”
Marla, now a viral legend, never did master the dance. But she’d found her groove—literally. The rubber chicken became a meme icon. And Marla? She retired her duck hat, but kept the sunscreen. Just in case.
