Duck Juan bobbed happily in the pond, his vibrant feathers catching the sunlight. The gentle quacking of his fellow ducks mingled with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. Today seemed like any other peaceful day until a familiar figure appeared on the horizon.

The Muffin Man, with his iconic white apron and flour-dusted hands, strolled towards the pond. Duck Juan quacked excitedly, flapping his wings. "He's here to feed us!" Juan exclaimed to his friends, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The Muffin Man set his basket down, but instead of reaching for the breadcrumbs, he pulled out a curious set of notes. "These ducks will make the perfect ingredient," he murmured to himself with a sly grin, oblivious to the growing unease among the ducks.

Duck Juan exchanged worried glances with the other ducks. "We must find a way to escape," he urged, his voice barely a whisper. The ducks nodded, their hearts pounding with fear as the muffin man rummaged through his basket.

Duck Juan rallied his friends, their feathers ruffled with determination. "If we swim to the far side and hide in the reeds, we might evade him," he suggested, his eyes scanning the pond for an escape route. The ducks agreed, their quacks of agreement filling the air.

As the Muffin Man turned his back to consult his notes, Duck Juan led the charge. The ducks paddled furiously, creating a cacophony of splashes that drew the muffin man's attention too late. By the time he turned, the ducks had reached the safety of the reeds, their silhouettes disappearing into the thick vegetation.