"That's my ball!"

"Is not. S'my ball!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!"

"It's mine!"

"Why?"

"'Cos I can kick harder than you."

"Can't."

"Can."

"Can't!"

"Can!"

"Go on then!"

*BOOT!*

"It's gone over the edge."

"Ye-ess. So it has."

"Right down to the first level, I bet."

"Hmm. S'probably rolling around on the Pelennor by now."

"My ball!"

"You'd better go and get it then!"

*BOOT!*

"Ouch!"

"Who can kick harder?"

---

"Mine's longer than yours."

"Is not."

"Is so."

"It. Is. Not!"

"I'm older than you, so mine's bigger."

"It isn't. You're just holding it so it looks like it is!"

"Am not."

"Are!"

"Am not!"

"Swords are silly anyway. I want a bow and arrow when I grow up."

---

"That was my Orc!"

"Your Orc?"

"Yes! My Orc! I had him picked out long before you spotted him!"

"Well, you were certainly taking your time in killing him off!"

"I was sneaking up on him, round the back. I was going to take him by surprise!"

"Surprise? In all that clanking armour? You were the one about to get a surprise! He'd got you in his sights with arrow notched and bow drawn. You'd have bought it if I hadn't been here!"

"Would not."

"Would."

"Would not!"

"Would!"

"Look out, Little Brother! Here they come again!"

---

"Mine!"

"No, he's not! He's mine!"

"I saw him first."

"Did not."

"Did."

"Well, yes. I suppose you did, actually."

"And died for him! And came back again!"

"Unfortunately for the rest of us..."

"My filthy ranger!"

"No, mine."

"Mine!"

"Peace! Peace, I beg of the pair of you! First you ravish me half to death and now you want to finish me off with all this clamour! Can't we have just a little brotherly love around here?"

"Love?"

"Him?"

"You must be joking!"

"Not until I get my ball back..."