01 / EXCUSE ME, CONE.
01 / THE DETOURAN ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY EVOLUTION

Same polite face.
New transport problem.
Beluga didn’t get a bike. He became one. The smile stayed. The legs became a question for another department.
Now he rings his bell at traffic cones, takes roundabouts personally, and makes a milk run feel like a royal procession.
He says “excuse me.”
He means “move.”



