I have a bad feeling their adopted son is playing the part of the hindquarters of that centaur. Nothing like smelling your stepdad's farts all day at the Renn Fair.

I'd be the son that is almost certainly in the rear of that centaur costume.

The look of utter despair and hopelessness on the face of the girl in red is heartbreaking. The fact that a rabbit is climbing up her dress is alarming. And the distance that everyone else is keeping from this family is not at all surprising.

Are there wheels in his hind legs or something? Or does he just stand around drinking mead all day? (From the looks of that gut, that's a yes.)

I WANNA BE THE BUNNY

not because I enjoy groping young girls, but because I just want to be a bunny.

heh. I've been going to Ren Fairs since I was a few days old. I was totally that young lady in red.

My mother made my garb. Tudor roses embroidered on velvet along the edge of the skirt and on the front of the bodice. Wish I knew what happened to that one. I only have the chemise left.

Switched to peasant garb when I was a teen and sewing my own. Better for running around and getting dirty.

Now I make whatever crazy costumes my boy wants. Ren/Pirate/Fairy/Ninja/Cowboy/Noir Detective/whatever

Oh man, that's totally the Ren Faire in Irwindale, CA. I'm only partially ashamed to say I was there on more than one occasion in the 90s.

That centaur's not overweight, you just have a warped body image thanks to modern media. That's the body of a 1950s Hollywood dreamboat right there. You just gotta imagine the pants pulled up to the belly button.

I just hope that girl in the back isn't in a wheelchair because she was trampled or not using a saddle.

I'd definitely be the Klingon drag queen.