Sean barely heard what Solomon said, he was so busy staring at Dexter's work. The figurines were appearing out of nowhere - out of thin air - and it was all he could do not to gasp with excitement each time a new one joined its fellows in existence. Sean wondered how long they would last. If they were made out of pure magic, probably forever. But he didn't know anything about magic, and he had no idea how to tell if someone was grossly exaggerating their ability or not. Solomon wasn't helping. All he was doing was explaining things, and sure, Sean had asked, and sure, the answer was actually sort of interesting, but it wasn't magic.

Sean sat back and crossed his arms, smiling for the first time since coming into the kitchen. "I don't believe you can really make a car. Those little puppet things are easy. A car's a... well, it's a car. It's like a bridge. It's even more complicated than a bridge is."

Partly a deliberate goad, partly a genuine query. Sean had only just discovered magic was real, and he was still feeling out the boundaries of this new world. Everything had to stop somewhere. Even Father Patrick's sense of humour stopped, around about the time Sean accidentally permanently damaged the church by splashing paint on one of the pews. Years of covering the paint over had faded the bright pink colour, but it had never gone away completely.