"What've you got?" I asked him suspiciously.
"Something you want..."
"What? James, what?" I questioned eagerly. James pulled out his hands. They were empty. Disappointed, I put aside my book, and found out his hands weren't quite empty.
"Ouch!" I complained as he flicked his wet hands at me. I yelled at him, and chased him out of my room, where Dad insisted he actually brush his teeth. Phew.