When Sebastian said, “That fellow's throwing shade.”
While one brusque fellow huffed and whistled a shrill tune,
Jimmy stared past them as though he'd solve it soon.
“At last,” he snapped, “there's a profession I can aid.”
Meanwhile Sebastian muttered, “I've been betrayed.”
Cloth in hand, Jimmy sought a pole and a heavy pail,
Then sketched rough plans across a receipt's tail,
“No shade is worth a toss unless it's properly displayed.”
Yet Jimmy worked on with a smile, tightening every brace.
“Nobody throws good shade from a ground-level height.
But this can't be clumsy, or we'll fail despite our might.”
He shook the contraption and declared the science sound with grace.
As it sailed, it wrapped a fountain far too large to hide.
Before the flailing sail knocked a startled cyclist from his chair,
And others laughed at gentle mayhem and pointed everywhere.
Sebastian sighed while Jimmy found his patch of shade with pride.