It was just an ordinary day at the preschool in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. The three-year-olds were playing happily, while the teacher dozed. Two small boys were building towers, three little girls were playing doctor, and in a corner, a boy was playing with a truck. Two girls, twins, both with red-gold hair came over.
"Tommy, we want that truck," said one of them, very sure of herself.
"No! It's mine! I had it first." He replied nervously. Those twins were the terror of the preschool.
The other twin joined in. "If you don't give us that truck, I'll… I'll… well, you'll see," she said, changing tactics in mid-sentence.
Understanding what her sister was doing, the first twin, Lily continued. "Yes, you'll see."
It worked a little. It made Tommy worried. "But… but…" he stammered.
Molly, the other twin was getting angry. At home, everyone gave the twins most of what they wanted.
"I WANT THAT TRUCK," she yelled. In one second, the truck had driven itself across the room, banged into the sleeping teacher and woken her up.
Lily was there in a flash.
"Could I please have that truck," she asked politely.
"Sure, sweetie," the teacher yawned and went back to sleep.