As usual, Wally painted in his backyard, sitting on his stool with his typical usual grumpy face—which was also his concentrated face.

He moved his brush delicately around the canvas, total precision until... A noise disconcerted him, causing him to accidentally scratch where he shouldn't.

He quickly turned in the direction of the noise, ready to scold (scream) someone, but, seeing you...His face softened for a second but then returned to his stern gaze.

"You." Wally sighed, complaining at the bottom. "What the fuck are you doing there?"