"If you knew right from left, we wouldn't have this problem. I never shot Marcus dead, because he went the right direction. Which in this case, was left. Not right," he replied around a mouthful of cookie, not caring in the least that Lucy was throwing her crumbs on the floor - he'd have his dad clean up after them tonight or before they opened tomorrow, depending on when they wrapped up for the day; the beauty of being your father's boss. "What do you want to play, then? Racing game?"