"Hey, DJ," exclaimed Boost.
DJ got startled and flinched, Yoana unexpectedly jumped back in fright, the Reko-dos parted.
"Hub-ba, hub-ba," shouted Wingo at them carrying false enthusiasm in his tone.
"Shut up, Wingo," yelled DJ, glaring, whilst Yoana glanced at the ground.
"It's Hubba Bubba, and I don't see any of that anywhere," said Snot Rod to Wingo whilst acting like he's looking around. "Say, did you go shopping for snacks this week and did you see any apple-flavoured kind," he asked just to annoy his vivid, now frowning friend.
As the Gashi took a breath to reply, the metallic greyish purple Jitsu already started speaking.
"We finished picking up the trash and we're returning home," he informed his friend and the car lady. "Guess, you will be spending the night here," he continued, expecting a confirmation, looking at the music geek with bluish purple eyes.
"Yeah," answered the Reko-do.
"Accept our condolences," replied Boost then, left with his gang.
"Why did he say that," questioned the weather-themed tuner.
"We say that to each other when someone in our group is about to go through or is going through something negative that isn't light but isn't heavy either. It's a joke," explained the blue one.
"Oh, okay," replied the lady.
The quietness felt awkward and pressuring for her so she tried starting a conversation.
"That Wingo is such a boob," she commented.
DJ burst out laughing, the part of his hood under his windshield began shifting to a purple hue. He hadn't heard this slang word in a long time. He could recall the memory of the word usage taking place in Treble Town, his home city, at his parents' house in the yard. His aunt and uncle with their children visited his family, all Reko-dos enjoyed each other's company in the yard. His father and his father's brother began trying to put up a volleyball tent, of course without reading the instruction manual first. This resulted in their teamwork gradually becoming futile, their grumbling and occasional name-calling. Their family members found them entertaining and watched them. "That part doesn't go there, you boob," shouted his uncle at his father. The reply was, "Yes it does, even a tractor with half a brain knows that!" The blue one's cousins and his little sister laughed during such parts of the dialogue. His little brother, who was a few months old at that time, did not understand what was going on. He started emitting frequent, short, high-pitched cries typical of Reko-do babies whilst shedding tears; which caught the attention of everyone and caused the adult males to stop their fruitless work. DJ and his little sister pouted that their sources of entertainment ceased their faulty functioning, whilst their mother comforted the littlest member of the Johnston family.
"DJ…DJ," called Yoana.
The male had realized that he had zoned out after finishing his laughter when the female said his name.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying," he questioned.
"I didn't say anything yet, just wanted to get your attention to continue the conversation about that boob of a car, Wingo," she replied.
The music enthusiast started giggling.
"So, you demoted him to a tractor's udder," he said.
"No, a boob is the teat of a tractor's udder," she clarified with a serious expression.
"No, it's a tractor's udder," he corrected, his face displaying a bit of strictness. "That's how everyone I had asked in Treble Town defined it," he added to support his claim.
"Well that's weird. Everyone I had asked in Volvoda said it's the teat of a tractor's udder not the whole udder," she replied defending her opinion.
"Different dialect maybe," she suggested partially being motivated to bring the feeling of peace into the conversation.
"Probably," replied DJ. "I guess we can agree that Wingo is a boob," he offered.
"Yes we can," replied Yoana. "Do you believe that he doesn't want us together," she questioned looking at him with her grey eyes.
"Yes," he answered.