We’re outside at Neville.
Raccoons and kangaroos, in separate but similar mob-like scenarios, are taking over the neighbourhood.
Three to four hooligans enter every house, each group wearing different colours.
My house keys and Peter’s are hung up in a conspicuous spot, and we’re afraid they’ll be robbed.
Justin French is there, and he’s huge. He’s the neighbourhood bodyguard, protecting us from the raccoons and kangaroos.
French: “I love real estate. You hate me though, don’t you?”
Me: “Well, French…”
Peter (trying to figure out how he recognizes French): “Mara! You know Mara Pellerin?”
Mara happens to walk by at same moment.
Still, French does not know her.
‘Coons and ‘Roos