In which Pascal makes plans and a tempting and somewhat inappropriate idea suggests itself

The next day Pascal got up and had a polite and chill breakfast with the Spronks. He then took an apple from the fruit bowl and went outside. Climbing onto the chicken shed roof he sat down and began to plan his mode of attack—not on Aine’s affections, but merely her consciousness. He knew it would take a small, defenseless, and possibly wounded animal. He occasionally came across small, defenseless, and wounded animals and cared for them. They always died. He assumed this was the normal way of things and failed to see how a small dead creature would help him work his way into Aine’s consciousness. It seemed rather counter-intuitive to him. But somehow he knew she would appreciate receiving a small animal despite the fact that its untimely demise would soon follow. Pascal took a bite of the apple and pondered this. He would have to pretend he needed Aine's help. They would bond over their inability to save whatever poor creature fell into their lives. Idly he scanned the surrounding countryside from his perch and suddenly he snapped out of his reverie. A couple streets over was a small park. In this park there was a pond. Several types of ducks lived in this pond, and, wonder of wonders, Pascal had just spied a duck leading a very untimely batch of ducklings. The feathery puffs skimmed along the ground after their mother, pompoms of cuteness tearing a hole in the fabric of autumn.  

They all appeared completely healthy and would doubtless be difficult to apprehend, but when Pascal looked at them, all he could see were Aine’s large, blue eyes, looking up at him and registering his existence in the world.

It was too tempting; Pascal would steal a duckling and present it to Aine. He would pretend he’d found it weeping small duckling tears beside its mother’s broken body. The mother would have been slain by a passing Audi. Or perhaps a scooter. Pascal was unsure which would be more likely to elicit sympathy from Aine and supply much-needed veracity to his fabrication. He would think about that later. For now he needed to catch a duckling. He slid to the ground and abandoned the rest of his apple; he would be unable to taste and enjoy the sweet fruit of the earth until he had fulfilled his duckling quest.

Pascal Spronk found a cardboard box amongst the sprawling cobwebs of the shed, appropriated three slices of bread and a package of crackers from the Spronk larders, and began the trek to the park.