There is only one traffic rule, oh People Who Walk In Front Of Me: If you are going to do that, you have to do it fast.
This rule is for your own good. It’s not wise to assume that the the restraint and self-control I have been practicing for the past few years is going to last. Every time one of you heaves your fat bums into my path and then begins to waddle and dawdle so slowly that it almost seems as if you are moving sideways more than forward, the whole world finds itself just that little closer to a cataclysm. Every time one of you decides that your behind should be in front and then insists on this arrangement, resisting my attempts to overtake by walking right in the middle of the path, blocking the sides and my avenues for overtaking, every time one of you do this, one of the fairies of my conscience dies. And you don’t want the magical fairies to die. They do a vital job, vital for your safety and protection. They hold the chains the trap the monster within me. While it is chained down all it can do is merely think of kicking your buttocks so hard that they shoot inverted out of your face, but it cannot actually make me realize this thought. When the last fairy dies the monster will be free. And I shall kick you. I really shall. Hard. My foot will go so far up your ass that you will smell it. I don’t think you want this to happen. At the very least spare a thought for Kaziro, the guy who cleans my shoes. Imagine how hard it will be for him to scrub body tissue and the slime from your internal organs off my North Stars.
So please, in the interests of the common man, either speed up or get out of the way.