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thing that they do. Then all of a sudden: CRACK! CRACK! SPLOOSH! What the fuck? The ducks became agitated; invisible things were impacting around them. I craned my head to see what the hell was going on. One of my neighbors, a hatchet-faced crone, had come out onto her balcony and was THROWING ICE CUBES AT THE DUCKS. Not like jon stafford lobbing them just to sort of discomfit the poor birds, but hurling them jon stafford with alarming strength and accuracy jon stafford at the suddenly quacky little beasts. They flapped piteously while the harridan continued her merciless assault. I stared numbly at this horrible scene, unable to react, until the ducks finally had enough and flew away. The awful hag turned and lurched back into her apartment wordlessly. Hey, you know what? DON'T HURT MY FUCKING DUCKS, YOU MUMMY! Ice cubes? That's mean. You can't just put out a nice big shiny pool of water out there on the patio and expect innocent waterfowl to ignore it, can you?
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