I don't need to stop him. You can't stop him. ( He seems at once heated and resigned, in the way of children who've understood when they've exhausted their meager capabilities. )

I just want him to hurt. Because he deserves it. He lied about my dollhouse. He made it worse.

( And the child, apparently, bears grudges. ) He'll lose his territories if he keeps losing his pieces. Or he'll have to cut more of himself. And he's running out. So... so that's all I'll say. Get all his parts. And I hope he... I hope he screams.

( Ah, and let it not be forgotten: ) And get my umbrella. Bring it here tomorrow. I'll fetch it.