SEK is inside his apartment being forced (by proximity) to listen to children playing basketball on the court adjacent to his porch.
CHILD #1: Pass the ball!
CHILD #2: I'M RAY ALLEN!
CHILD #1: Pass the damn ball!
CHILD #2: I'M RAY ALLEN!
SEK'S PORCH: I'VE BEEN HIT!
SEK: What the—
SEK exits his apartment and looks at his porch. On the ground is a shattered pot and another plant that will inevitably not survive re-potting at this time of year. There is also a basketball. SEK picks up the basketball and looks at the children on the court.
SEK: Which one of you is "RAY ALLEN"?
CHILD #1: What do you mean?
SEK: I mean, which one of you is "RAY ALLEN"?
CHILD #2: Not us.
SEK: Have a good night then.
CHILD #1: What about our ball? Can we have it back?
SEK: This isn't your ball.
CHILD #1: It is.
SEK: So you're "RAY ALLEN"?
CHILD #2: No one's "RAY ALLEN"! Now give us back our ball!
SEK: This ball belongs to "RAY ALLEN." If you're not "RAY ALLEN," this isn't your ball.
SEK enters his apartment with "Ray Allen"'s ball. Ten minutes pass. His doorbell rings. Standing at the door is an OLDER WOMAN with a firm grip on CHILD #2's arm.
OLDER WOMAN: My son has something to say to you. (OLDER WOMAN elbows CHILD #2)
CHILD #2: I'm—
OLDER WOMAN: Say it!
CHILD #2: I'M RAY ALLEN!
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