Cheto used the unedible berries from the bushes in front of my parent's house as amunition. I'd given up the fight but he stayed on the roof. He didn't seem to mind the harsh, late afternoon sun. When all the alien ships were destoryed he put me in his sites.
"Cut it out!"
Cheto giggled and continued to pelt me with the little red projectiles as I played with my Joes. His aim was good. Cheto nailed me right in the Alf at least four times before giving me the finger. I had no choice. I found a small rock and chunked it. I was no marksman. We both watched the arc of rock, way too low. I broke my own bedroom window.
"Awmm," said Cheto.
I was beginning to hate him.