"What?" Babsie demanded.
"Just how many times in a year do you dye your hair anyway?"
"Not enough."
"How did I know you were gonna say that? And why is it purple again so soon?"
"I like purple."
Zac rolled his eyes.
"Besides, it isn't 'so soon'. It hasn't been purple since, umm, Cyke and Lockie were born."
"Details, details."
"Ahh, you're just mad 'cause you were wrong."
"Are not."
"I'm not Ike or Tay, you can't start an 'are not', 'are too' fight with me."
"Can so."
"Can no- ha ha very funny."
"Yes, yes I know."
"You are so far up yourself, I don't think you can come down."
"That's why they invented elevators."
"I think someone needs to do something about your big head."
"I do not have a big head. My body just hasn't been growing at the same rate."
"If your body isn't growing at the same rate as your big head, it must be even larger than I first imagined."
"At least I haven't been infected with purple hair."
"At least I can redye my hair. You, on the other hand, well, I'd use a pin to pop your ego-inflated head, expect I don't think even a mattress needle is even quite strong enough to break through."
"I'm surprised you even know what a needle is."
"I'm surprised you even know needles exist. Or did you only realise that when I mentioned it?"
"See this?" Zac said, gesturing to his tattoo. "This is a tattoo. And to make said tattoo, they use needles. So there."
"Meanwhile I've never seen anyone tattoo a mattress."
Zac laughed.