Short Stroll Riot

Nobody likes a surrealist.  I should know, I'm a surrealist myself.  I can feel it, walking down the street, the boys and girls and their pets looking up at me from behind their beady little eyes.  I can see their thoughts, their speech bubbles, the narrator articulating their lives in his crisp English accent.  Fools, the lot of them!  I blow bubbles in their speech bubbles!  I narrate my own articulation!  Rebuke the proletariat!  Vive le surréalisme!