“Why is Sophie hiding behind her daddy? It’s only me.”
“Maybe she’s shy, I used to hide behind my mummy all the time.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I was scared of people I didn’t know.”
“Silly Gillian! There’s no reason to be scared.”
“But what if they didn’t like me?”
“Don’t be silly! Everyone likes you Gillian!”
“…I love you Brianna”
“I love you too!”
“Okay. Let’s just say, I hate this place.”
“I don’t know, it appears to suit you well.”
“Say what? Do you know what it’s like to wakeup every morning surrounded by garbage? Between leftovers and dirty laundry? The washbasin is leaking, the toilet overflows, the firdge is empty, and the water smells as if it hasn’t had a bath for months!
And then those permanent cries of “Rufus! Do the dishes! Find work! Tidy up for once!” Get it into your thick skulls! The whole planet is a trash heap! We walk - on trash! We eat - junk! You want me to get my ass into gear? You can watch my ass dissappear! I’m going where potential isn’t just fertilizer that gets strewn on the cabbage beds!
What can a man achieve in this trash heap anyway? Be freaking mayor of freaking garbage town? The job that even the noble master dodger of responsibility didn’t want? Count me out! You hear me, dad? Count me out! And you know something else? I hope you fell into a manure tank! I’ll wave goodbye when I pass you on my way to Elysium! Look at me! Who’s the filthy little litterbug now! Huh? Who’s the litterbug now!”
“Okaaaaaay… You really do seem to hate Deponia.”
So far, anyway.
So I’m sitting on the couch in front of 12-or so small children, reading a book about a little bee who leaves the hive and goes to search for sunflowers. Long story short, the little bee finds the sunflowers.
“It was paradise!” I read out.
All of a sudden, I hear a small voice at the back.
“Para, para, paradiiiiise” one of the children sings quietly.
All of a sudden, the rest of the kids echo.
“Para! Para! Paradiiiiise! PARA! PARA! PARADIIIIISE”
Suffice to say, the book didn’t get finished.
So instead of choosing to spend my 7-day girth wisely, I instead decided to use the first 5 days running rampant on horseback, snatching flowers and mushrooms from the ground like some derranged florist and ferociously munching on them an hour later.
Whelp. Thanks to that, there won’t be any willing sleep for the next 72 hours.
And I’ll probably do this next time as well.
Why do procrastinators never learn?
Is it a gene?
I wanna pick more flowers!