Brechtian post-horror parable on the terror of being observed. The people are happy to see you, but the duck gets mad. 'Leave me alone, duck!' you cry, when you were the initiator, so by trades, the aggressor. You did this to yourself.
Thus the conflict of man against self is made manifest solely in the presence of the Other. The duck moves offscreen. Your blood runs cold.
Who are you, now you are alone?
Yes, obviously it's a perfect game, but is the human cost worth it?