Bored Scene
It was a dark, rainy day, as was the norm around Number 4, Privet Drive. Vernon Dursley was crept up in a dark corner of his residence, grumbling gutturally. He was sick of all the torrential downpours, and longingly hoped for something to do in this horrible weather.
At that moment, Vernon's wife, Petunia, walked up to him, and the following conversation ensued.
"Vernon, whatever is the matter?"
"I am sick of all the torrential downpours, and I longingly hope for something to do in this horrible weather."
"Is this going to be a problem?" inquired Petunia. "You've spent so much time up here you're almost as devilishly handsome as Dudley!" She tried her best to avoid speaking of "fat" and "gluttony" anywhere in the proximity of her darling son.
"It certainly poses no obstacle for me," Vernon replied. "Why, you should try this sometime."
Ignoring Vernon's comments, Petunia continued, all the while making grotesque clicking noises with her elongated neck. "Perhaps a short spell away from home would do you a jolly good job," she suggested.
"Nah," her husband refused. "Yesterday, I took a video rental to Mrs. Figg, and I ended up feeling rather worse."
"Is that seriously how far you can walk now? I have to say, I'm impressed."
It was Vernon's turn to ignore. "Petunia," he said, "I have a vision. I have a vision that we should just take a car and drive away!"
"Ooh, a car trip," Petunia said, remaining calm while Vernon's jugular vividly pulsated and his face morphed into a brilliant shade of crimson, then violet. "That sounds nice." She then left him to mope on his own.