Brat: (mournfully) I itch.
ACT 2.
Brat: (incoherently) ARGH!
ACT 3.
Brat: I give up. (scratches. shows no sign of stopping.)
EPILOGUE.
Okay, okay. I'll go get the anti-itch spray stuff. (It's more effective, but nowhere near as satisfying as clawing my skin off with my fingernails.)
