Growing up, Nursey had always assumed he’d be excited when he finally had his Gooseday.
Young Nursey had, of course, failed to take into account how God damn massive, not to mention murderous, fucking geese are.
When Nursey finally wakes up one morning to find his goose standing beside his bed, Nursey actually feels something more akin to panic than excitement.
Nursey’s goose squawks and goes straight for his face.
It takes Nursey nearly half an hour to fend off his goose long enough to get dressed, at which point his goose squawks again, and starts ramming itself against his door.
Nursey figures he’s probably meant to open the door, to allow his goose to lead him to his soulmate, but honestly, he’s not sold on letting this vicious monster loose on campus.
Nursey’s goose puts a six-inch gash into his door (goodbye security deposit), and Nursey gives in.
His goose takes off at a quick waddle, and Nursey, having no other reasonable course of action at this point, follows after.
Their walk across campus is a gauntlet of knowing looks from other students, and savage goose-on-goose violence whenever their path crosses that of another student experiencing their Gooseday. Nursey has to physically restrain his goose at one point when it looks like it might actually kill a goose belonging to a terrified-looking young woman with bleeding scratches all down one side of her face.
By the time the goose gets to the steps of the Haus, Nursey feels, and probably looks, like he’s gone ten rounds with a mother grizzly bear after drop kicking its cub.
The goose gives a repeat performance of its destruction of Nursey’s dorm room door until Nursey lets it into the Haus, at which point it makes a beeline to the biohazard couch and hops up onto it to settle comfortably next to Dex, who’s sitting on the couch, casual as you please, and somehow not getting mauled by a goose.
“Nursey,” Dex says, nodding in greeting, “This your goose?”
Nursey gives himself a quick once-over; there’s a hole in his shirt, with a sluggishly bleeding scratch underneath, grass stains on both of his knees and his ass, feathers in his hair, and a rapidly developing black eye. It’s obviously his fucking goose.
“Yes,” Nursey says, instead of any of that. Because the implications of his goose just sitting on the goddamn couch are hitting him now.
“Huh,” Dex says, reaching out to absently scratch at the goose’s head.
The goose squawks gently and presses its head into Dex’s hand, like some sort of fucked up cat, “Happy Gooseday?”
Nursey gapes at Dex for almost a full minute before finally thinking ‘fuck it’, and flopping down on the couch beside Dex (carefully on the opposite side from his fucking goose).
“Yeah,” Nursey says, leaning his head onto Dex’s shoulder and sighing when Dex kind of shrugs and lifts an arm to wrap around him, as though this is normal, “Happy Fucking Gooseday.”