It was Saturday.
You woke up at 10, the sun was shining outside. You stretched your legs and walked to the kitchen. You made yourself a cup of joe and looked outside. No work? The sky is sunny? The birds are chirping? Nothing could ruin this day.
You realized the paper was still outside. How clumsy.
You opened the front door, stepping out onto your porch in your robe. God did that feel good. At your feet, an angry face.
“Go away you dumb fluffy! This is Chief land now!”
Across the yard his tribe was rooting through your flowers, shitting in the grass, trying to find food.
“Grrrr… SPESHAL FWIEND! WE HAB HOOMIN TWIBE IN YAWD!” You yelled.
Your special friend ducked from behind a corner, her mane still messy and her fluff dirty.
“’UO GET WID OB DEM! FWUFFY AM DOING PWETTY MANSIE!”
Looks like you would have to deal with this yourself.
“I said go away! This land now belongs to me and my tribe!”
You looked down at the hoomin chief with anger. Standing almost two feet tall, his hair tumbled down his shoulders, and he was completely naked. You watched with disgust as his no-no stick swung around as he moved. It didn’t even retract into his body meaning it was on full display all day, disgusting. With a swift kick you sent him off your porch over the steps.
“OW! Dammit! That hurts!”
A female came over to help him. His wife most likely. On her back was her baby, its arms wrapped around her neck, making those annoying noises.
“My husband? Are you hurt! Do you need a splint or a bandage?”
Splint? Bandage? Why did they invent so many words for different types of huggies?
“You stupid fluffy! I’m going to make you hurt and shit on your face!”
He ran forwards, only to be met with another kick that sent him flying. The rest of his tribe was gathering now, obviously scared. One of the females went up to you, holding up her baby.
“Please let us in! We need food! Me and my baby!”
Kicking them away too, you went around to the side of your house. Nothing was going to ruin this day. Opening your shed, you looked over your tools for what would send the right message.
Those hoomins would know never to shit in your yard again.
