The duck... no, the swan waddled awkwardly. It smashed straight into the wall.
I stared at it, dumbfounded.
Just a moment ago, I had been busy destroying the tranquillity of a pond as I valiantly struggled to haul a swan out of the pond by its feathery tail, ker-splosh noises filling the air. It had been weird enough to see the swan's feet. Swans spend so much of their time floating on lakes that we forget swans have legs.
What now? A blind swan? Or has it yet to get accustomed to walking on land?
My elder brother cackled at the sight. He squat-walked, shaking his haunches exaggeratedly, and slammed face-first into the wall.
Now that's what I call an idiot.