Firingwall
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Toon It Up: Wet Paint (Preview)
🕑 Added 2022-09-09 12:57:26 +0000 UTC“Annnnnnnnnnnd done~!” Luminaria declared. The purple squirrel gal gave herself a hearty cheer and fist pump as she jumped and twirled into the air. Nothing like a job well done.
And now, time to pack it in there. She reached behind herself and grabbed her large, fluffy tail. SPLURT! She wringed it hard, twisting it all her might. Paint poured right out and back into the strategically placed, oversized paint bucket. Not a single drop missed the container.
“Mmmm, mhmmm, hummmmm~,” she hummed happily, her tail a-wagging as she closed up the lid. Her mood was perfect.
Why wouldn’t it be too? She looked back on her grand work with pride. The park bench was beautiful. Such a lovely black, like staring at the empty night sky. Beautiful work and a perfectly easy, well-paying job to boot. All the nuts and peanuts she could ever want! The city sure knows how to treat a squirrel right~.
She whistled happily as she pulled out a “Caution: Wet Paint” sign from behind her back. She carefully placed the sign in the middle of the bench, a soft ding heard.
There~. Now no one will get a butt full of paint! She grinned, patting herself on the back. Onward; the next bench awaits!
She grabbed her paint can and strutted away, heading down the path. It was hard work being such a talented painter, but those benches needed their paint jobs!
Soon, the area was empty. Faint birds and distant cars could be heard off in the distance. The bench and sign sat alone for a long time.
FWOOOSH! A strong gust of wind bellowed through suddenly, trees and leaves shaking about. The breeze struck the sign. Fwomp! It was blown clear into the distance, disappearing behind some bushes. The bench was left unprotected, its coating still very wet and glossy.
And as by pure unluck, a man came jogging up. His name was Terry, a guy who usually liked his morning runs when not many people were in the park.
