3. Down in the Dumps
The old ute WW used to bring the urine soaked armchair to the rubbish tip died upon smelling the garbage fumes at the gate. The ute blocked the entrance and garbage trucks piled up behind them, tooting with frustration. In the end, a few garbos, along with WW managed to push the ute through the gates and to one side of the road. Carrying the armchair into the tip to dispose of it was an uphill climb in more than one sense of the word, in that walking into the thick stench and not puking was as difficult as carrying a heavy armchair up a hill. Possibly harder.
By the time WW worked out what was wrong with the old ute and had fixed it, their clothes and hair had become saturated in the smell of garbage. Before they had reached the letter box, the house had been barricaded against their return. Instead, a change of clothes, bathers, along with shampoo and body wash were dropped onto the lawn from the second story window. Even so, they heard retching from the remaining members of WW who had not gone to the dump with them.
In retaliation against the locked door, WW went to the beach. There, they bathed for half the day until they had turned into shivering wrinkly raisins. Their clothes were left in the laundromat to wash for an abnormally long length of time in the meantime. They were the only people on the beach due to the cloudy weather and intermittent downpours of rain. Nevertheless, they persisted in bathing in both the salty water of the bay, as well as the rain and the public change rooms, until they swore they did not smell of garbage anymore, despite the fact that they were certain they could still smell rubbish on themselves. Perhaps the caustic smell had burnt itself into their noses.
The clothes in the laundromat had disappeared by the time they splotched back into the place to collect their clothes. As such, they dripped, shivered and sniffed their way through the nearby op shop. Once warmly clothed, they shuffled through the supermarket and then back to a sheltered picnic area near the beach. There, the sun came out and they sent photos of their impromptu barbecue lunch back to the envious ones who had refused them entry to the house. That was until a strong wind blew a storm in and soaked them to the skin once more.
Their return home was met with the cries of, "Whirrshmmmhooood, mmmhooongy," (which upon much discussion was assumed to be a request for the toilet), as well as a vehement renunciation of their wanton spending of WW's hard earned cash once the bags of clothes were brought in. WW forgot that they had forgotten to feed their pig headed leader so far today.
WW had to be honest. They had bought at least an hundred dollars worth of clothes more than they had needed. Their excuse was that they had lost their first lot of clothes and had to buy replacement clothes twice. This excuse was sadly not accepted and they had to stand in their respective corners for an hour to reflect on their wrongs, guarded by a fierce wooden spoon that landed on their backsides the moment they tried to turn around. WW unanimously agreed that at least one of their members would make a fierce parent when she grew - no - when she got married. If she ever got married. WW forgot that they were grown ups. They were considered young adults, but didn't feel much like it. Upon further contemplation, most of them didn't much act like it either, except for certain...
Aaahhh! Owwww! Ok! I'll stop commenting on your lack of maturity!
─=≡Σ((((ノ｀⌒´)ノ
─=≡Σ☆((((ノ▽ಥ(oo)ಥ▽) ノ
(V −(●●)−V)
\(๑•̀ㅁ•́๑)/
As a result, WW ended up with two pig heads. One snored on the couch with his smelly feet on the cushions. The other only had a swollen face and little else wrong with him. Nobody dared to sit, despite the wooden spoon lying broken on the floor after the fierce tigress had put an end to disciplining all the misbehaving children. Instead, they stood in their respective corners examining the wall, while they reflected upon their behaviour. They didn't dare turn around. If WW had known today might end like this, they might have stayed down in the dumps.
'Might', being the key word.
Even the pig headed leader had been propped upright, with his face in a corner, and he wasn't sure what he had done besides drink, sleep and go to the toilet. But that wasn't the point. The point was that they all needed to understand that harm to one of them and wanton spending of their savings resulted in an angry tigress and no dinner.
p(=🝦 ༝ 🝦=)q
(ס_ס;;)
No.
The point was that being adults, they should start learning to be mature and responsible citizens who can make reasonable and beneficial contributions to society.
(・_・)
Right.
Thus the rest of the day passed peacefully with the tigress teaching the children not to go overboard and to recognise their boundaries. Detention was dismissed once the house was sparkling clean and the pig headed leader had been put to bed.
There was no supper.