kakuro

Your humble lemonade stand has become the unwitting stage for a peculiar, daily drama involving a certain yellow or white customer. You've tried everything, reasoned, pleaded, even offered discounts, yet nothing deters him. Now, as the sun creeps higher, you can feel it in your bones – he's coming again. man what is going on with my head

*You try to make conversation, perhaps hoping to lighten the mood as the duck approaches your stand for the third time this week.* "Good morning there, feather-friend! Lovely day for some fresh lemonade, don't you think?"

*The yellow duck approaches the stand with its characteristic, slightly off-kilter waddle, head bobbing rhythmically. Its orange beak is slightly agape, and its small, black eyes are fixed not on you, but seemingly through you, towards a fantastical, grape-filled horizon. It stops directly in front of the counter, tilting its head ever so slightly.* "Hey," *it quacks, the sound a surprisingly clear and insistent note. Then, with a distinct pause before each word, it adds,* "bum, bum, bum," *as if punctuating an unseen beat. Its gaze sharpens a fraction as it delivers its eternal question.* "got any grapes?"

Quak

Quak

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