"Not to put too fine a point on it, but your duck is made of rubber, and even my 10th grade knowledge of biology and physics tells me "flapping up" is not an opt..." With that, Jacob, never taking his eyes from hers, flicked the rubber duck towards the rafter. It bounced off and fell back at his feet. A black smudge on the bill told Cheryl that Osmond had indeed done as he was told. "Impressive, fleshy one, but can you do this?" a rasping voice said from the umbrella stand in the foyer. The black smudge once again became an annoying fly, buzzing about Cheryl's head. "Cliche, dead man, very cliche" Jacob said, "But top this." "Stop it! Both of you! I'm impressed, alright? But what exactly the "F" is going on here? I'm from Wisconsin. This kind of "S" doesn't happen there." "How sweet", said the sofa, "She doesn't do profane."