"Come on, Brady, you're gonna make me so far behind!" Mindy moaned, swinging on the front door's handle. From the room opposite hers, she could hear rustling and objects clattering to the floor as her older brother rushed to get ready.
"All right, all right, I'm coming!" Brady was adjusting his fake curly black beard underneath a tall hat when he noticed Mindy impatiently tapping her foot at the door, the blond mop of her ponytail flopping with with every tap. "Whoah, why are you dressed like that?"

"I could ask you the same question."
"You know I have my montly Reflections on History Battle today. It's the same time every month."

"Ugh, calling them Reflections on History Battles doesn't make you any less of a geek. They're Civil War re-enactments. Now chop chop, I have boxes to sell!"
Brady anxiously scratched at his itchy fake beard. "This isn't one of your stupid Girl Scout cookie escapades again, is it?"
Mindy gestured to her Girl Scout getup, complete with brown pleated skirt, sash peppered with patches, and a purple polo. "Well, duh! Now let's go!" Mindy hurriedly packed together her boxes of cookies in a shiny red wagon. When she was done, she nearly flew out the door, slamming the door in Brady's face. He followed her to the end of the driveway.

"Hold on, let me at least get my cannon from the garage. Jeesh."

* * *
Donned in mid-1800s garb wasn't exactly the ideal wardrobe for an 80-degree Saturday morning in Southern Florida, and after just five minutes of lugging a cheap miniaturized cannon behind him, Brady was sweating through his waistcoat. He glanced at his pocket watch and sighed. "Uh, Mindy, I have to meet the other guys at the field in 20 minutes. How long is this gonna take, exactly?"
"Oh, however long it takes to whoop Piper and her possé into the next dimension. So it shouldn't be that long." Mindy skipped as she dragged her wagon of Girl Scout cookies behind her, her light-up Skechers glinting on the pavement.
"I didn't realize the business of door-to-door selling had such a tense competition attached to it."
"It's not all bad, really. Just Piper's group of henchmen. Which is like half the troupe, but still. Me and my friends, we all hate her. We agree that she deserves to be pooped on by a flock of seagulls. My one friend, Sophia, who's like a real-life bird whisperer, says that she can make it happen. She says--oops. Sorry. Forget that I said anything. It's supposed to be top-secret information," Mindy giggles.

"The less I know, the less chance I have of being prosecuted for guilt by association." Brady shrugged.

"So." The heels of Mindy's sneakers scuffed the concrete, smudging an elaborate chalk drawing of a butterfly. "Remind me again why you're dressed like Uncle Terry?"
"I'm not. I'm...supposed to be Abe Lincoln."
"Wha--? Bahaha! Last time I checked, President Lincoln didn't have gauges in his ears, or wore a pair of Converse hi-tops! Oh, that's rich. That's real rich."
"We rotate out parts. See, last month, I was General Robert E. Lee, and then--"
"Wait wait, stop!" Mindy halted her excited skipping for one second and held out her hand as they turned a corner. "We've reached...Peach Tree Grove."

"What's so special about Peach Tree Grove?"
"That's the development where all the suburban, stay-at-home mothers are, duh. They're our best customers. We're bound to spot Piper anytime now."
"Okay, but I have to be on the other side of town in 15 minutes, and my role is kinda, you know, really important to the outcome of the war?" Brady huffed, aggravated that he was allowing his nine-year-old sister to be so controlling of him.

"Oh crap, there she is!" He followed her pointed finger to a stout girl with red, frizzy hair and a pair of large, circular glasses five houses down. "She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And her two sidekicks, Janice," she directed his attention to a tall, thin girl of Asian descent wearing a scowl, "and Amelia." She gestured to a small, dark-skinned girl in a stroller, her hair decorated with beads. "She's Piper's adopted sister, and her secret weapon. So far, nobody that's ever encountered her cuteness and not bought a horde of cookies as a result...has lived to tell the tale."

At that moment, Piper sauntered up to Mindy and Brady, her arms crossed and her eyebrows knitted with fierce determination. She's at least six years younger than me and I'm still afraid of her, Brady thought to himself, but dared not admit out loud.
"Well well well, if it isn't little Mindy."
"You're only three months and three days older than me, Piper."
"Betcha wish you lived in Peach Tree Grove. My mom just got out of a PTA meeting, along with all her other stay-at-home friends, and they're really hungry. What do you recommend I sell them, Thin Mints," she said, pulling a box of Thin Mints out of one of her skirt pockets, "or Tagalongs?" She pulled a box of Tagalongs out of the other other pocket.
"Oh, cut the crap, Orphan Annie, or I'm gonna pop that bubblehead of yours."
"It was a trick question. I'm going to sell them all of the cookies! Haha, in your face!" Piper then threw the boxes to the sidewalk, where she proceeded to stomp on them repeatedly, until they were nothing more than cardboard and cookie crumbs. "Come on, moms, we don't have all day!"
At her command, a legion of mothers in matching tracksuits filed out of a nearby house. As they marched down the street, Brady noticed that the backs of their tracksuits read "PROUD SUPPORTER OF THE GIRL SCOUTS" in tiny gems. Each of them wore a fanny pack bulging with boxes of cookies. The mom in front, presumably Piper's, wielded a flag with her face on it. It had a glossy quality about it that shimmered in the sunlight.

Mindy flopped onto the freshly mowed lawn. "Aw, forget about the whole whooping-her-into-another-dimension thing. It's stupid. I don't stand a chance. Let's just go to your geek war now. I give up."
"Hey hey hey, don't say that," Brady consoled her. "She's just a big bully."
"That doesn't change the fact that I have to put up with her."
"Yeah, but...but all of this is meaningless anyway. Like, are you going to remember this moment in five years and still feel bad about it? No."
Mindy burst into tears. A steady stream of boogers and tears dripped off her chin, and her mop of blond ponytail dangled in front of her eyes. "But it matters to me right now! I care about it right now! Do you think in five years you're gonna wanna brag that you nerded out by role playing in the park every month? I would hope not, but that doesn't stop you from wearing a waistcoat on an 80-degree day!"
Brady pondered this while Mindy frustratedly ground her face into the grass and groaned. He didn't even notice when 3 small, girl-shaped shadows materialized behind him.
"Uh, Mindy?"
Mindy's head popped up, hair sticking to her face. "Emma? Sophia? Charlotte? I thought you weren't selling today."
"Yeah, well. We didn't want you to face The Ginger alone," the middle girl replied, a clunky metal retainer slurring her words.
"Thanks, you guys."
"So, who's ready open a can of whoop-butt on Piper's possé?!"
"Yeah!" All four girls pumped their fists into the air.
"We can totally outsell her!"
"Yeah!"
"We'll be the baddest scouts on the block!"
"Yeah!"
"Alright team, then let'th move!" at Retainer's words, the others sprinted to the opposite side of the street, tossing boxes of cookies from one to the other, like an assembly line.
"Hey, can I borrow this?" Mindy asked, referring to Brady's cannon. Without even waiting for an answer, she yelled "Okay thanks!" and skipped as she trailed the heavy cannon behind her.

Brady stared at the scene around him in bewilderment. On one side, girls taking advantage of their poor mothers to increase efficiency. On the other, girls using a cannon and an assembly line to reach their goal. Something about this strict division of sides made him uneasy. Then, he suddenly understood the importance of That Big Famous Speech he was supposed to give at the Civil War re-enactment. He cleared his throat, and boldly began to speak:

"Girls, girls!" he shouted. That got everyone's attention immediately. "Do you see what this cookie-selling is doing to your sisterhood? It's turning you against one another, and that's not what Girl Scouts is about! You there," he said, pointing to a young girl in pigtails on Mindy's side. "You look like you have a lot of patches on your sash. Would you mind sharing how you earned some of those patches?"
"Sure, uh..." The girl sniffled as she squinted and held the sash to her face in order to read them. "Uh, building a fire...archery...kayaking...pitching a tent...helping others...being a team player..."
"Excellent! And do you know what, er, most of those patches require? Teamwork! I think many of you need to learn a lesson or two from this girl. She knows what's up. I would call this a 'Civil War', but there's nothing civil about it. In fact, it's mean and immature. Are you really willing to sacrifice your friendships, your organization, for the sake of a little cookie selling? I mean, do what you want, but that seems ridiculous to me."


After a prolonged pause, Piper piped up, "Hey, this Daniel Day Lewis guy is right! We shouldn't be fighting each other, that's just stupid!"
Relief fell over Brady's face. "Thank you!"
"...when we can work together to fight him!"
A chorus of "Yeah!"so fell over the horde of girls as each of them pelted boxes at Brady's face. He wasn't sure who was in charge of the cannon now, but a box came soaring through the air at 30 mph only to nail him right in the eyeball. "Ow! Hey, stop!" Brady cowered in the middle of the street. Every inch of his body ached. "How do you guys know who Daniel Day Lewis is but not Abraham Lincoln?"
"He's my mom's celebrity crush!" came Piper's shouted reply, followed by a box that bounced off the top of Brady's head. Soon the wave of cookie ammunition grew so impenetrable that Brady lay shaking on the ground. Until he heard a voice say behind him:
"Now that's just wasteful."
"Mindy?"
"That's my name, don't wear it out."
"Hey, thanks for coming over here to support me. I appreciate it."
"Actually, I just came for the cookies. They're like all crumpled and stuff now, so we have to eat them. Awesome, right?"
"Let's go home."
"Okay."

Mindy helped her older brother up from the ground, and they walked home munching on cookie crumbs. Once they were out of Peach Tree Grove, the shouting voices grew muffled, and the only clear sounds were the chirping of birds in the trees.
"Y'know," Mindy started, before gulping down a cookie. "I actually agree with what you said. They're all a bunch of idiots anyway."
"Yeah."
"Plus, Mom said she was gonna enroll me in Tai Kwon Do next season. She said it'll help with my anger issues."
"I believe it."
"Hey, can I watch The Horse Movie when we get home?"
"Sure. I don't care."
"Sweet."

* * *
"Where's Abe?" a teenaged boy with slick-backed hair and acne scars asked. The Confederacy collectively shrugged. The Union mumbled "I don't know"s and stared at the ground.

"Does anyone have his phone number?" Ulysses S. Grant suggested.
"No, you baffoon, they didn't have cell phones back then!" Stonewall Jackson retorted, smacking Grant upside the head.

"Well, then, what do you suggest we do?"

"Pretend like the Civil War never ended, I guess."

"Sounds good to me," replied Jackson. "Let's call it a day. I need my morning coffee."