"You’re a greedy one, aren't ya?" Gazza grumbled. He tossed the rest of the hash brown a few meters away, toward the park.

It was a Tuesday in Sydney, the kind of day where the humidity clings to you like a wet wool jumper. Gazza was standing outside a Maccas in Surry Hills, balancing a large flat white and a sausage McMuffin, waiting for the light to change.

"Don't even think about it, mate," Gazza muttered, pulling his McMuffin closer.

Gazza tossed the piece of potato. The Ibis didn't budge. It wanted the whole thing.

Suddenly, a tourist in a pristine "I Love Sydney" t-shirt wandered past, eyes glued to a map on their phone. They stepped right into the bird's strike zone. In a blur of white feathers and a curved black beak, the Ibis didn't go for the tourist's bag. It went for the phone.