Winton, running, trips, catching foot on his blanket mid-air which throws him further forward than merely falling would have so that he first bangs his head audibly on the leg of a large armchair and then lands heavily on his face.
Hardie, panicked on Winton's behalf, spins in circles sobbing like a teenage girl.
Clara, incensed at being peripheral to the action, shrieks semi-coherently about the need to shape an bunny tail out of tissue paper and wedge it into the back of her pants.
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