A streetlamp winked and shivered; someone in the crowd found their long-forgotten courage tucked behind a lamppost and waved it like a flag. A stray dog, appointed marshal, sniffed the air and barked three cadences that made potholes fill with stars. As the parade wound down, Bunda Enorme deflated and offered its last jar—a single word: hello—handed to each passerby like pocket change.