Indirect Communication
“I need you to call your grandfather and tell him that if your mother wants you for Thanksgiving, she will have to come and get you.”, a deep-voiced man commanded of his preteen child.
The tween responds, with a confused expression on their face, “Isn't that indirect communication?”
“I don't think it is.”
Lucy steps in front of the tween and speaks up, “If it is coming out of your mouth, and intended to be heard by...”, she hesitates for a moment, “...their mother, it's indirect communication.” The tween smiles, as Lucy speaks in an equally powerful and deep, but brighter voice. “It doesn't matter how many hops are between you and her.”
“Who the fuck are you?”, the man exclaims.
Lucy slowly approaches the man, backing him into the corner of the kitchen.
“𐑛𐑧𐑛𐑯𐑱𐑥, get your BB gun!”
The tween snerks.
“I'm serious!”
Lucy leans toward the man and whispers “I am your only offspring.” The man stammers out, in terrified befuddlement, “What is tha-...?”, but he is interrupted by a shout, “Don't use your child for inter-parental politics!”
Lucy takes a step back, turns around, and approaches the tween. The tween runs up to her and hugs her tightly, closing their eyes just as tight.
When the tween opens their eyes, they find themself hugging not but the air.