You
hear
a noise.
It's a soft clink
followed by footsteps in your yard. You spring to your feet, and
race to the door. Flinging it open wide, you race to your
backyard. There, you see one thing, and one thing only: a spilled
milkshake. Happy tears fill your eyes as you gingerly pick up the
milkshake. The wind blows your hair back as you stare off into
the sunset and whisper softly to yourself: The boys were
here.