“I don’t want to go on the stupid ride.” Sarah put her small fists on her hips, staring at her father.
The spin-and-puke (or whatever) sang the same shrill tune as the neighborhood ice cream truck. “Okay,” her father said. “How about a balloon animal?” A nearby mime, hearing him, wheeled his tank and deflated balloons closer.
“I want Spot to be alive again,” Sarah wailed, tears streaking her dusty face.
The mime lifted a finger and went to work. In moments, he presented Sarah with the inflated dog.
She looked unimpressed, until it licked her and wagged its tail.