The Picnic

Your neighborhood chevron gas station invites you to... Chee-chee! Let George do it! Brought to you with the makers of chevron supreme gasoline and RPM motor oil. The Do you have a crime that needs solving?

Have a dog that needs walking? Have a wife that needs spanking? Let George do it. George Valentine put that ad in the paper, opened an office and waited for the client to pour in. He was mildly successful, but for the past few days, nobody has entered his office except his secretary, Claire, and her brother, Sonny, his self-appointed assistant.

Not one to worry, George has decided that they need some relaxation. Now we find them driving in the country, looking for a place to picnic. Here? Not enough trees. Keep going, Miss Valentine. Claire, I'm starved. I want this picnic to be perfect. You must have just the right spot.

Awwwwww. Here? Too flat. I want a hill. Keep going. Don't listen to him, Mr. Valentine, or we'll die all horrible death. Imagine the irony. They'll look in the car and see a picnic back. Fried chicken, potato salad, double eggs, and three emaciated bodies.

How about here? There's no theme of water. Keep going. Oh, Mr. Valentine, I'm an agony. After all, I'm still a growing boy. How can I grow when nobody feeds me? Why are you stopping? Because we're gonna have our picnic right here. All right, last stop, everybody else.

Everybody out. Mr. Valentine, you can't be serious. Take you can somebody's front yard. Why not? There are trees, grass, a hill. And if you want to stream of water, just bring their doorbell and tell them you're thirsty.