There is nothing wrong with a bunch of children horsing around. They need their exercise, and entertainment. It's all very necessary. Sure, okay. But when they get bored, they start to cause mischief. They get annoying to everyone but them. They don't realize it and they don't care. Well the adults care. They would like to make sure the kids know, but some people do not want to be parenting someone else's kids. So why not tell the parents? And just where are the parents at times like this? Where? Does anyone see them?"Where are your parents!?" Dysme shouted, holding their shoulder, which, they felt lucky enough did not include bruised ribs. But it felt as if it had nearly been dislocated from behind. Their groceries were everywhere. Two bags full of produce were now on the ground. Dysme glared at everyone around them. No one came forward.
"Fine. Dodge this tomato, punk!" They roared in a voice that sounded too loud to have come from their narrow chest. They picked up a tomato, a nice beefsteak now dribbling its contents down Dysme's wrist. With a snarl, the adult taur aimed and pitched at the offending child taur. The tomato hit the child in the back of their head with a disgusting SPLAT.
That felt real good.
