Cooly, Streamly Gredible sashayed into the next room, but not before bending forward, thrusting a stiff middle finger sharply into the air, and shaking its fist at her blubbery dad.

"...See what I mean? ...She’ll say stuff to hurt other kid’s feelings just so they’ll kicker out. A lotta them have shit self-esteem already. But she’s not above lobbing blunt objects. How many posters do I gotta tape over holes in the walls back home? I don’t want her–or me–involved in that kind of stuff anymore. Keeps me up at night. And then ever morn I gotta drag her outta bed? Anyway, she’s doing alright with Maths and Catholicism."

"Sorry about that."