Eliot: Hey, how's the arm little man?
Randy: It's okay.
Eliot: My name's Eliot, what's your name?
Eliot: Randy, uh? I like that name. I had an uncle named Randy. Sure are a lot of cops running around here, huh? You know, if you wanted, you could go up to one of them, tell them what happened to your arm. Hey Randy, you don't have to be afraid anymore.
Randy: Dad knows these cops. You know, they come to my house; they'll drink beer and overlook me. I can't.