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It is picnic day. Rupert had all packed their meals and snacks just before George happily whistles and chirps his wake. They exchange cheerful smiles, loving hugs and playful greetings. Reciprocating each others cheesines with pet names like “Energy baby” and “crybaby”. The latter being attention seeking with his boldness in everything he does. A well floral shirt for Rupert and a tank top for George’s muscular confidence, and both know that they are well in the excitement for today’s picnic.
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That, until they drive into the tightly knit neighborhood. A squatter area known for only one lane, canals and houses clustering the sides and children who seems to have no care in the world as they play like devils on the street. ‘Peeeeeeep peeeeeeep’, George had to honk many times, childrens and dogs alike in this neighborhood. But the worse has yet to come. They drive to the tighter spaces where market stalls crowd the area and an one old man holding his hands up, gesturing for them to stop as a muscle car comes out of a garage.
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At first, they sympathize with the young couple who are also honking madly at the human blockade. They wait, and question their existence for living close to this neighborhood. Or why there is only one street leading to the highway. 10 minutes in and Rupert’s sighs turned to banshee yelling about how he wants the government dogs to flatten this neighborhood and turn it into a highway.
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“that’d be bad for us too” George says, patiently honking twice before letting out his inner monster when the tiny satyrs still get in his way for the third honk.
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“But you’re angry too, right? This is ridiculous, look at that old man. Is he supposed to be their helper! Isn’t he too old for that?” Pointing aggressively at the poor old man going back and forth as if he is the problem, “That’s a crime!”
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“Disgusting, why can’t they just get out of the car?”
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Out comes the karen, “Their butts must be glued to that car. Lazy asses, I say!”
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With both busy mouths complaining, and waiting, another car lines up at their tail and gone mayhem at honking. It is not their fault. But Rupert feels at fault, and George become agitated that he started wildly honking as well “It’s been twenty minutes!” Wails the crybaby in his seat, “Move already!”
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Rupert looks up and down at his husband, telling him to yell out the window but George strongly denies using the stares of the market crowd as his reason. But Rupert’s water bottle is half way empty! “Ahhh, for real! Move already!”
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Just then, George thought of an idea that he would rather not do. Inhale and a deep exhale as he asks Rupert, “How about, you go up to them?”
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“And why would I?” Giving George a feisty feline glare, “let’s go together!” Snapping a hold at his husband’s arm.
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“Ah, no, no, no” quickly sinks deeper into his seat and clutching hard the steering wheel. “I can’t leave the car.” He mutters, “and there’s people at the back…”
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“Then go and ask them!” Gatlings his garlic tone, frustrating Geroge’s head to hide as he argues madly at the rear view mirror, “Those people at the back should go tell them. That THAT stupid couple is wasting our time. *********…”
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“Calm down, calm down” the husband has got nothing to do with this feral cat in his car but he suggests for him to let out his frustration at the couple. But Rupert remains true to his seat, yelling at George to go out instead. Both end up arguing at who has to go out. Nobody wants to do it, and thirty minutes later, the young couple finally drives. Rupert and George’s car has yet to move. 10 minutes in and a frizzled ginger red neck knocks on their window and Rupert is so shocked to see the man’s big everything face that his neck almost snapped back. George gives the poor man a side eye before finally driving off the crowded squatter neighborhood.
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