"Oiii, me mouth ith the betht thin' evah! I can thtuff innnit five cakes and drink me milk wit it!" Willie exclaimed, flailing his arms, the butter held tightly into his hand. Who was he to say that his mouth was like a volcanic eruption?!

His eyes shone at the can of oil that was lifted in front of him and at what the boy intended to do with it. "Mate, I think we be on the thame page," he spoke softly, opening the napkin to show the almost melting butter inside of it. "I'mma be rubbin' thith on me bottom for a bettah thlide, dontchaknow."


Looking at the slide and then back at Cy, Willie grinned some more. "I be havin' an idea, mate! Come 'ere!" He ushered, wanting to whisper something in his ear. "I promithe not ter thpit in yer ear!"

Or he'd try.