can't lock me in your cage Who: The Dog King & Council. Where: The Council Chambers. What: Business before pleasure. When: 2:00PM Thursday, 6/11.
Rodeo could have laughed for the rest of his goddamned life over Sarge's horror upon leaving his cabin, seeing all the garish decorations that had accumulated there in the most nauseatingly gory array possible. Teagan had done an impressive job rallying the troops, and the Park has gone all-out, balls-to-the-wall festive. Tents and trailers are besmirched with banners and a nightmarish collage of streamers and cut-outs. The mismatched holidays, the excessive color palette, the unapologetic gaudiness of it-- Rodeo loves it all. But he can't take the time to enjoy it yet.
He reminds Sarge of this, and by some miracle his best friend stops with what Rodeo can only assume was an internal battle wondering if it'd be faster to tunnel out or try climbing the wall to leave the Dog Park behind forever, and whether or not he should burn Rodeo's trailer down before he goes. Rodeo is impressed Sarge can manage the composure, but maybe he just wants to get to the council meeting so he can call a vote to mutiny and kill the Dog King. Whatever the case, Sarge comes with Rodeo to the Council Chambers.
The others filter in alongside them after catching the spectacle of Sarge's emergence from quarantine. Rodeo is still grinning despite himself, adjusting the collar of his cut as he moves to the head of the table. Still standing as he waits for the others to take their place at the table, he places a hand against the smooth carved wood and allows himself one small joke at the expense of its craftsman.
"Glad you could join us, Sergeant," Rodeo smirks, nodding his chin towards Sarge. "Was hopin' I wouldn't have to appoint Barbara in your place. Know she's good in a lot of positions, but I don't reckon this would be one of 'em."