“Remove it.” Lucy shrugged. “Okie doke. Satan appease me!” The mustache wriggled but otherwise remained as is. “Oops,” Lucy said. “So, here’s the thing. I’m only seven years old, and still learning. I’m just a little guy!” “And?” she said, shoulders stiff. “And,” Lucy said, drawing out the word for a good five seconds, “that means I sometimes do things I don’t mean to. Like giving you permanent facial hair that no matter how much you shave will regrow within six hours, six minutes, and six seconds. My bad!”
