"Is that my smoothie?"
Shawn turned around, still slurping up the remnants of a very delicious pineapple smoothie. He met Eliot's icy glare and for a moment there was nothing but the loud noise of the straw. Setting the empty cup on the counter, Shawn gave his cousin a sweet smile.
"No."
What happened next could only be described as a burst of motion. Eliot darted forward and Shawn scrambled the opposite direction with a scream that was more for show than out of actual fear. Though Eliot was highly trained and deadly quick, Shawn was all about survival and had learned before the age of twelve how to out maneuver those bigger than him.
As he rounded the dining table, Shawn slid the book resting on it across the surface and clipped Eliot in the hip. Then he purposely drifted around the corner into the living room, bunching up the rug on the floor. He laughed as he heard Eliot stumble over the rug and darted for the door, not daring to look back.
Shawn made it to the last step of the porch before the dead weight of an angry bag of potatoes slammed into his back with gale force. The momentum was enough to tumble them both across the grass a few feet. Shawn was up and sprinting down the block in a flash even though his lungs had yet to recover their stolen air. Angry noises and thundering boots alerted him to Eliot gaining ground.
"I'll buy you another one!" Shawn shouted over his shoulder, in a half-baked attempt to placate his cousin.
"The smoothie shack is closed today, Shawn!" Eliot yelled back, "That's why it was in the fridge!"
Shawn laughed breathlessly, almost hysterically, "Yeah, I know!"