An Argent answers.

"Hello. What can I do for you?"

There's a girl, not much older than Chris's son. She's holding a phone, which she immediately shoves in Chris's face. It's playing a certain video.

"...Victoria, dear, I think we may have a problem."

A woman emerges from the kitchen, walking until she stands behind him.

She looks at the phone as well.

"I see. Who do we have the pleasure of speaking to?"

She withdraws and pockets the phone. "I'm Monica Beatson. But Nica will do. My family was informed by a mutual acquaintance that your family seems to think it's funny."

"I think you've been misinformed. Our son may have been...misled, by some new friends. We weren't expecting things to be this bad, or we might have put a stop to it entirely. We assumed they were merely reckless, not dangerously so."

"We don't want any trouble," he claims.

"This is on YouTube. That boy, the one with your son—who is he? He's not from any families we know of—"

"Someone hasn't done her homework," another voice calls from above. Standing on a tree branch is a different girl, about the same age as Nica.

"Must you always do that," she mutters.

She drops down from the branch. "I'm Megan. Eoh. It's a pleasure to finally meet the Argent clan I've heard so much about."

"I wish it were under better circumstances. Maybe we should all go inside. Victoria can make us some tea."

"Actually—"

"Sounds good," she says, walking past Nica and into the house.

"—oh why not."

Victoria makes tea.

"Alistair, dear, could you come down here?"

Mr. Argent leads them to the kitchen table.

"So, let's discuss what comes next."

Alistair hurries downstairs, pausing halfway as he sees the guests.

"Hello."

They both sit.

"You're the one I saw on the video!"

"...I am."

"Was this her idea?"

"We all supported it."

"And what exactly was the decision there?"

"The Cardcaptor, chosen by Clow Reed himself, decided that the status quo needed changing. I wasn't going to say no."

"Oh, cool, I'm in."