Aim.
Fire.
A thin stream lanced out from the plastic gun and into plastic clown’s wide grin. Atop its hat protruded a pink balloon which swelled at rate faster than his rivals. Within seconds, it popped; a bell rang to signify his victory.
“Winner!” shouted the booth operator from around his cigar. The rivals scuffled off to seek their glory elsewhere in Funland while the operator waved the youth over to the side.
“You been out in the heat all day, kid,” he said between puffs of his cigar. “You ain’t fed up yet?”