Citron: I guess I’m gonna miss you, sis.

Cumulus: Oh, c’mon; you love me.

Citron: Everybody loves you, sis. You don’t have to make it sound like a privilege to like you.

Cumulus: What? That’s crazy.

Citron: Tell that to the five boys who asked you to prom this last year.

Marigold: Alright, you two. No need to bicker.