“Oh, no!” shrieked Joyce.

Shirley was skidding across the floor atop the banana peel, vocalizing a panicked series of hoots not unlike those typically associated with the bird known as the whippoorwill. What a remarkable coincidence, thought Joyce, that the last name she shared with the skidding, shrieking girl was in fact Whippoorwill.

“I guess I shouldn’t have tossed that banana peel on the floor,” she said, her mouth full of half-chewed banana. Then, a look of panic crossed her face. “I hope Shirley Whippoorwill doesn’t fall!” she said.