CUTIS Inviting Dad on Picnic Funny Ending That Keeps Netizens Laughing Non Stop😂

Cutis was known across the village as the cheeky little farmer boy with a heart of gold and ideas too big for his boots. At just nine years old, he had already taken care of baby goats, rescued chickens from the well, and even nursed a baby monkey back to health. But his latest idea? A father-son picnic.

Now, Cutis’ dad, Mr. Thom, was not the picnic type. He was the quiet, strong, farmer-man kind who only smiled when his crops did well or when he saw Cutis deep in mud but happy. But Cutis had a plan—and when Cutis had a plan, the whole village usually ended up watching

“Dad,” Cutis said one sunny Saturday, “I want us to go on a picnic. Just you, me, and some of your famous grilled chicken legs!”

Mr. Thom raised an eyebrow. “A picnic? You mean outside? With ants?”

Cutis nodded excitedly. “Yes! But not just outside, way outside. On top of Monkey Hill. Great view. Fresh air. The perfect place.”

Mr. Thom sighed and looked at his tools. “Can’t we picnic in the backyard?”

“Nope! You promised me last week that we’d do something fun this Saturday.”

Mr. Thom scratched his head. He had promised.

By 9 a.m., Cutis was already running around the house with a little basket, filling it with bananas, hard-boiled eggs, and a suspicious amount of chili sauce. “Dad likes it spicy,” he explained to their curious neighbor, old Mrs. Rin.

By 10 a.m., Mr. Thom finally agreed, mostly because Cutis had somehow convinced their cow to moo dramatically every time he refused.

At 10:30 a.m., they were off—with a slightly wobbly picnic basket, a small speaker playing Cutis’s favorite music (which was just frog sounds, for some reason), and a red checkered blanket.

The hike up Monkey Hill was no joke. Mr. Thom huffed and puffed, while Cutis practically flew up the path.

“Why do you have so much energy?” his dad asked between gasps.

“Because I’m carrying the bananas, and you’re carrying the chicken legs,” Cutis grinned.

They reached the top by noon. The view was breathtaking. A wide green valley stretched below, dotted with rice paddies and the occasional duck. Cutis threw the blanket down and plopped himself right in the middle.

“I declare this spot perfect!” he shouted.

Mr. Thom sat down with a groan. “I declare my back broken.”

Everything was going perfectly. They took selfies. Cutis even made his dad wear sunglasses shaped like hearts. Mr. Thom resisted for ten whole seconds.

Then came the food. Mr. Thom opened the container of chicken legs, and just as he reached for one, it happened.

From the bushes behind them came a rustling sound. Cutis turned around and gasped.

It was not one, not two, but six monkeys.

The leader of the monkey gang, who Cutis immediately named “Boss Banana,” locked eyes with Mr. Thom.

The standoff began.

Boss Banana pointed at the chicken. Mr. Thom pointed at the chicken. They both wanted it.

Cutis whispered, “Dad, maybe we should share…”

“Over my grilled chicken,” Mr. Thom muttered, slowly wrapping the container in the blanket like a secret treasure.

But Boss Banana wasn’t having it.

In one quick move, the monkey leapt forward—right at Mr. Thom’s chest. Mr. Thom yelped and stood up so fast he accidentally launched the chicken legs straight into the air.

They flew like golden rockets, spinning in slow motion. Everyone’s eyes—human and monkey—followed the arc of the precious drumsticks.

Then: SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT.

One landed in Mr. Thom’s hat. Another in Cutis’s lap. And the rest?

Straight into the paws of Boss Banana.

What followed could only be described as monkey mayhem. The troop whooped and hollered in celebration. One monkey tried to use chili sauce as a drink. Another slipped on an egg. And Boss Banana? He strutted across the picnic blanket like he owned the hill.

Cutis couldn’t stop laughing. Mr. Thom tried to look mad, but even he had to chuckle when one monkey tried to feed him a banana like it was an offering of peace.

The grand finale came when Cutis, still giggling, pulled out the speaker.

“Let’s end this picnic properly,” he said. Then he pressed play.

Frog sounds blasted from the speaker.

For reasons nobody understood, the monkeys started dancing. All of them. Boss Banana did a perfect spin. One monkey clapped on beat. Even Mr. Thom blinked in disbelief.

Cutis joined in with a silly wiggle.

Then came the moment that would later make this story go viral.

Mr. Thom—serious, gruff, always-mud-on-his-boots Mr. Thom—started to dance. Badly. Hilariously. With the grace of a chicken on roller skates. And just as he swung his arms in a dramatic twist, his pants split down the middle with a thunderous RIP.

Cutis froze.

The monkeys froze.

Then everyone—every single creature on that hill—burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Cutis laughed so hard he fell over. The monkeys rolled on the grass. And Mr. Thom, after a moment of stunned silence, bowed like a true comedian.

That moment was caught on camera. Thanks to a sneaky recording Cutis had set up “just in case,” the entire thing—from the monkey battle to the pants explosion—was uploaded to the internet.

Within hours, the video was everywhere. “Dad’s Picnic Disaster” became a trending topic. Millions of people watched Mr. Thom’s dance, monkeys clapping, and Cutis’s explosive giggles.

The comments poured in:

• “Oscar-worthy monkey choreography!”
• “That chili sauce monkey was me in college.”
• “Cutis for president!”
• “I laughed so hard I scared my cat.”

By the end of the week, local reporters were asking for interviews. A bakery even made monkey-shaped cookies in honor of the picnic.

But for Cutis, the best part wasn’t the fame or the cookies.

It was sitting with his dad on that hill, eating leftover bananas, and laughing together like they hadn’t in ages.

“Best. Picnic. Ever,” Cutis said, munching happily.

Mr. Thom smiled, holding a safety pin to his torn pants. “Next time, we bring extra pants.”