“I see” said Bob, stupidly.

They’re in the rhubarb patch," Steven said absently as he searched for a wrench. “The midget doesn’t like cat hair in her pink celery pie.”

“That’s not an appropriate name to call your daughter.”

“It’s perfectly accurate.”

“That’s beside the point.”Exasperation crept into Bob’s voice

“What was the point?” asked Steven.

“Actually, do you remember that part I mentioned?”

Steven glanced around at the clutter then peered up at him quizzically. “I have a lot of parts and you’ve never mentioned any of them.”

“Not your parts, my parts!”

Steven eyes flicked to Bob’s pants. "The internet could probably help you with your question better than I can.” He said cheerfully.

Bob let out an animal noise of frustration. “Not my parts, my part! The audition. For the play. I got the part.”

Steven looked concernedly at his friend’s apoplectic face.“That’s good,” he said soothingly, "very good. How can I help?”

Bob let out a hurricane of a sigh. “I need you to build me wings.”