You hear a noise.
It's a soft clink followed by footsteps in your yard. You spring to your feet, and race to the door. Flinging it open wide, you race to your backyard. There, you see one thing, and one thing only: a spilled milkshake. Happy tears fill your eyes as you gingerly pick up the milkshake. The wind blows your hair back as you stare off into the sunset and whisper softly to yourself: The boys were here.