Narrated by Sir Crumbleberry, Guardian of Parental Dignity

Scene: Late afternoon. A suburban park.

The sun begins its slow descent. The winds whisper of bedtime approaching. But for the wild creatures visiting the park today, the battle has only just begun.

We observe: two cubs—Jack, aged seven and equipped with logic and defiance; and James, aged three, chaos incarnate—scattered across mulch, sand, and the cursed spinning disc that definitely causes vertigo.

The parents, noble and disheveled, approach with caution. Their bodies sag beneath the weight of snack bags, spilled water bottles, and broken promises of “just five more minutes.”

🎙️ “Here we see the adult female attempting negotiation. Her calls of ‘It’s time to go!’ fall flat against the thundering cries of the young. Jack argues. James sprints.”

The male parent steps in. He tries diversion:

“There’s ice cream at home.”
James counters by licking the slide. Jack suggests emancipation.

🎙️ “And now, the ritual begins.”

The adult female scoops James. He writhes—a majestic flail—legs swinging in unpredictable patterns of resistance. A high-pitched screech echoes through the trees. Nearby squirrels scatter.

Jack refuses movement. His body goes limp, dramatically heavy. He claims injustice. The father resorts to the ancient maneuver: the under-arm drag. Jack narrates his own suffering in real time.

🎙️ “The scene escalates. One cub dangling like a potato sack of rage, the other shouting legal arguments. The parents, heroes of the day, do not speak. Their eyes stare forward. Their souls, elsewhere.”

They reach the car. Both cubs are deposited into seats with the speed and accuracy of a NASCAR pit crew. One shoe is missing. Everyone is sticky. No one knows from what.

The engine roars. The parents do not look back.
And somewhere in the wind, a whisper:

“We’ll never speak of this again.”