Annie decided to branch out to do some freelance work as a duck hunter.
Oh, duckie. Say it isn't so.
To make it this far along the evolutionary chain, rubber duckie, you should have had some kind of instinct about impending danger.
Like a creepy stalker soundtrack playing in the background or something.
Why did you choose to venture into the mudroom, lair of the beast?
We may never know... But this is now your fate.
I need an avian medical examiner.
And look at this: Annie's still not satisfied. There she is, lurking in the background. I know you can barely see her behind the filthy window, but she's waiting for her chance to finish you off.
Make a getaway, rubber duckie. And godspeed.