At recess we have a game with no rules in the junior playground.

Someone in the group yells something like "get Tommy Mathews! He eats egg sandwiches!"

Tommy retreats, walking backward, pivots, runs full out, screaming. Reasoning pointless. And all of us run after him circles and circles clutching and screaming set upon Tommy like a rugby team always a little afraid Tommy will be dead by the time we're tired.

But no, Tommy yells from underneath the kicking "get John! He's a baby" and John twists from the pile, already in flight; already choosing a victim.