SCENE. 8:30 PM. Humid July NYC evening. The Uncle's house. The 9-Year-Old yells back and forth with the kids on the other side of 26th Ave -- a Busy Street, thus constituting an Impermeable Physical Abyss, utterly uncrossable without Grownup Aid.
NEIGHBOR KIDS ACROSS AVENUE. That was FIREWORKS.
9YO. That's dumb, that was FIRECRACKERS.
LOUDEST NKAA, PERHAPS 10. Nah-ah, that was FIREWORKS banging, your green dress is DUMB-UMB.
9YO. YOU'RE DUMB.
Erudite debate continues in this vein for perhaps two minutes, long enough for Dad to consider intervening, when Dramatic Events ensue.
LNKAA's SISTER, perhaps SEVEN. (Chanting) Name-Indistinct thinks she's cu-ute! Name-Indistinct thinks she's cu-ute!
LNKAA. (In voice like steam-whistle) I DO NOT I DON'T SHUT UP SHUT UP I DON'T! (Storms off into backyard in manner of thwarted Joffrey Baratheon)
9YO. (Pulls self up haughtily, & in majestic silence climbs stoop with regal dignity befitting a Queen of the Universe. Coolly re-enters Uncle's home, shuts door with Proud Finality.
Once inside living room, does the eminently predictable: excitedly scurries to window, peeks out under blinds with intense excitement & rapt fascination, as peals of pure, cruel delight from 7YO-NKAA Sister ring out across the hot Bayside night, & perhaps the Entire Galaxy)