At some point, usually about fifteen minutes in, there came a point of utter despair and a sense of great futility: the car had become one of those horrific 3-D puzzles that can’t be solved because the pieces would have to pass through each other to produce the desired shape and normal people just can’t make that happen, and everyone seemed content to simply stand around and comment on this fact instead of doing something about it.
This was largely Zach’s fault, as he was a terminal over-packer, quite capable of amusing himself for an entire week with one of the aforementioned 3-D puzzles but unable to remember that fact for the next trip. And no one did anything about it: Yvaine just tried (fruitlessly) to minimize her own luggage, Xe appeared to be entirely oblivious (as always), and Valentine simply packed up his family in their own car and heartlessly left Wib to wrangle the rest of the band all by himself. The injustice of it was enough to make a grown man weep.
Eventually, though not without some superficial damage, everything was fit into the car, everyone was chivvied into seat and seatbelt, and they were off. Each time as they drove away, Wib swore he’d make someone else do the packing next time, knowing as he did so that he lied. They all had their roles, their places, and his was to fit the pieces into the required whole.